


Show Me Where It Hurts

by aliensinflowercrowns



Series: Sincerely Me: Live and In Concert [3]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Depression, Eating Disorders, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Lot's of talking about suicide, Mental Illness, Stay safe y'all, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Themes, Suicide Attempts, The power of music, band!au, intensive outpatient programs, multiple POVs, my kids are bonding and healing guys, so this is the prequel to black hole, the kids are like 13/14, this is all platonic sorry y'all, yes i took the title from a jukebox the ghost song i am that bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-12-12 16:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11740989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliensinflowercrowns/pseuds/aliensinflowercrowns
Summary: Evan, Alana, and Jared all want to disappear, but fate brings them another option.





	1. The Things I Love Are Killing Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which evan likes sunsets, alana likes books, and jared likes attention
> 
> ****
> 
> This is a companion/prequel to my Tree Bros fic Black Hole. You don't have to have read Black Hole to read this, and they shouldn't really spoil each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Swearing, Suicide Attempts, Suicidal Ideation, Alcohol, Substance Abuse, Eating Disorder, Thought Spirals
> 
> This fic is going to be like high key triggering throughout for a lot of mental illness stuff especially about suicide. It's like a little bit darker than Black Hole, but if you could handle all of that you'll probably be able to handle all of this. Your mental health is 1000 times more important than hits/kudos on a fic, so please stay safe guys <3

Evan Hansen had always loved sunsets. The stillness of the world as another day died, in a such a beautiful way that one could almost forget it was a death. Evan wondered if that would be the way people thought about his death, in a beautiful, poetic way. A tragic soul too fragile for this world, another sad hashtag on twitter, another forgotten facebook page, another statistic of teen suicide, a name pasted on pride signs. #RememberEvan. He hoped not. Evan didn’t want anyone to remember him. He didn’t want anyone to mourn for him. He didn’t want to become some proxy for a hopeful message. No one cared about him in life, they shouldn’t care about his death.

He was stalling. Of course he was. Evan was so scared of living, it would only make sense he would also be scared of dying. His legs wobbled on the tree branch. He thought about climbing down. He thought about jumping on his bike and going home. He would get home and no one would ever know what he almost did. His mom would come home at ten and bring chinese take out and they’d talk about the news and he’d take his meds and he’d take his hormones and he’d go to sleep and he would continue his life. No one would know, no one would care. People only care about suicidal kids when they’re dead.

Evan didn’t want to live anymore. He was so tired. His bones ached, his eyes ached, he felt as if his body was giving up on him. He couldn’t blame it anymore. Evan stared down from the forty foot oak, and the ground looked less like unforgiving packed earth and more like sweet release. Evan wondered to himself, “If a boy falls in the forest and no one hears him fall, did he ever make a sound?”

He let go of the tree trunk and tilted forward on the branch, allowing gravity take him back from whence he came.

 

~

 

Alana Beck used to love reading. She used to love to stay up late getting to the end of a book, then sleeping until noon and waking up to her grandma’s pancakes. She couldn’t quite remember when, but she knew at some point life was easy. Life didn’t hurt. She was proud of her grades, she loved to learn, she loved to read, she loved and was loved in return. Everything was different now. Her dad tried, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing had been the same for a long time.

In the beginning the only thing that kept Alana sane was work. Become valedictorian, graduate early, go to Harvard, become a U.N. representative, work her way up until she was on the supreme court. She attacked every goal with fervor. It was the only thing that distracted her. Alana had to be the best. She had to be the best because once she was the best she would be happy.

She glanced at the clock. It was four in the morning. Again. She couldn’t sleep now, she’d just go to bed early tomorrow. She rummaged in her desk drawer for the pills that would keep her awake. Alana didn’t remember what it was like to not be tired. Her stomach gnawed at her insides. She couldn’t eat now, she was too busy. Eating was a distraction. Besides, eating lead to being overweight which lead to ostracization from her peers. Thin people got farther in life. Alana already had the disadvantages of being a black woman, she couldn’t be fat too. She sipped her coffee, sedating her stomach momentarily.

Alana had conquered hunger. It was really all in the mind. After twenty four hours of not eating, the gnawing pain subsided to a dull ache. Alana secretly loved being hungry. She felt light and hyper, like a fairy.

She shook her head. “Focus,” she muttered to herself. Alana just needed to focus. She wanted to finish this history project before class tomorrow. Granted, it wasn’t due for a week, but the teacher was more likely to award extra credit if she turned it in early. Her eyes were phasing in and out of focus. She snapped her fingers in front of her face a few times, trying to bring herself from reality. Her fingers felt like they were buzzing. She could barely write.

“ _Fuck!_ ” She hissed. “I won’t get anything done like this.” She opened her drawer once more, rummaging around for something that would bring her back to earth. She grabbed a baggie that she’d accumulated from various pharmacy trips and homework exchanges with shady characters behind the school. She pulled out two white capsules and a blue tablet, washing them down with more coffee.

In the back of her mind, Alana knew she was being stupid, and reckless, and should probably eat or sleep or tell her dad how she felt like a wind-up doll that was constantly being wound tighter, but instead she turned the page of her history book. Her fingers felt numb, her feet were buzzing, the words swam on the page as Alana slipped in and out of her half reality, before succumbing to murky blackness.

 

~

 

Jared loved being the center of attention. Validation was a drug, and he was an addict. When he made people smile and laugh it was like their joy filled something inside him that he couldn’t fill himself. The problem was, Jared was never good at talking to people.

They thought he was weird or awkward, vulgar or boring, they didn’t care about what he had to say and could just “ _please shut up for a second, Jared!_ ” The more he tried to pull people in they pushed him away. Of course, there was Evan, but Evan was a bitch. He didn’t actually like Jared, he just didn’t have any other choice of companion. Jared knew as soon as Evan made a real friend he’d drop him, so he made it very clear he didn’t really care. Which he didn’t. Because Evan was a bitch.

Still, Jared never knew what to say, or what to do, or if talking about anime was cool nerdy or annoying nerdy, or if cracking a sex joke would be funny or immature. He just wanted to get out of his head for a while, be someone else. Someone people liked. Alcohol did exactly that.

Jared didn’t really remember when he’d started drinking. He thought it was around age thirteen. He just knew that once he was drunk, it was like the world opened up to him. Suddenly, everyone loved him. He was funny and clever, he made people laugh. Older kids liked him, they would invite him places. “ _Kleinman’s cool for a little dude._ ” He didn’t mind the headaches or the puking or the memory loss if it meant he could be a part of something. No, he was more than a part of something, he _was_ something. He was someone. He wasn’t just at the party, he was the party.

“Dude, Kleinman, try this,” Some kid -- Derek? Jared wasn’t sure -- said to him, handing him a bright blue drink.

“Uh, okay!” Jared said, downing it.

“Fucking wild, man!” The kid said, giving Jared a high five. Jared smiled. He was wild. He was so wild, he was at a college party. Some kids he knew from Temple had invited him out.

The older kids loved when Jared came out with them. They thought he was funny, and cool, and daring. They’d show him off to all his friends. Sometimes college girls would kiss him, and giggle about it to their friends. Sometimes college _boys_ would too. Jared didn’t say anything, but he cherished those kisses. Sure, it was cool when girls thought he was good enough to kiss, but when older boys did it, his heart surged.

“Hey kid!” Someone said. He didn’t recognize him. He looked older, probably one of the older college kids. “What are you doing here?” The guy looked worried. Jared laughed him off.

“Uh, I was invited,” He said.

“How old are you?” The guy asked.

“Fourteen,” Jared said with a satisfied smirk. This was when people would give him a high five, a friendly punch in the shoulder, call him a badass.

“What the fuck?” The guy asked. “You’re a little kid? You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”

Jared scrunched his face. “Dude, the fuck is your problem? You can’t kick me out!” He said. “I’ve got just as much right to be here as anyone else!”

“Yo! Kleinman!” Someone called. “Come do shots!”

Jared started towards the voice, putting the unpleasant interaction out of his mind. He didn’t remember much after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gonna be fun y'all. it'll be shorter than black hole, but i can't really give you an estimated word count. i'll try to update frequently but i go back to fulltime school on monday (august 14th) and that might be able to fuck with the time I have to write. Also i'm writing like two different tree bros fics while i'm writing this (one of which will start to be published soon) so i have to split up all my time. this was a long ramble and you probably don't even care since there are really only like seven people who are going to read this. speaking of which if you do read this i will love you forever and if i ever find a girl dumb enough to marry me y'all are invited to the big gay wedding. 
> 
> pls comment because cows can't walk down stairs
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns))
> 
> and hey, bonus hipster points to anyone who can tell me where the chapter title is from


	2. Made For Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which evan is lying, alana is sleeping, and jared is struggling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Talks of Suicide, Blood, Depictions of Injury, Police, Alcohol, Mentions of Eating Disorders
> 
> just a note, if there's any triggers you think i missed/anything you want me to warn please please please tell me <3

Evan woke up in pain. He hurt all over. He felt the wet grass on his face. Or was the wetness his blood? He couldn’t get up. Everything ached. The world was spinning. God. He couldn’t even die right. Now he would have to wait for someone to get him. 

He hoped no one would come and get him. Maybe he could just bleed out. He wondered if anyone would come to get him. He wondered if anyone would notice he was gone. If anyone would care. Some family would probably find his corpse on their picnic. Wouldn’t that be a fucking trip. 

He exhaled.

“I should get up,” He said outloud. Funny. The only times Evan could talk without stuttering was when he was alone. 

He didn’t get up. Evan sat laid on the grass, staring at the sky. He remembered reading somewhere in an article that every person who’d tried to commit suicide and failed was glad. They’d be halfway to death and realize that they wanted to live. Well, Evan must be the exception to the rule. He just felt like a failure. 

His arm hurt like a bitch. He was covered in scrapes and could feel a giant lump forming on his head. Soon enough someone would come to get him. Someone would walk by and find him. They’d have to. 

“Who am I kidding?” He said. His voice sounded wheezy and defeated. “No one is going to get me. No one gives a shit. No one is going to notice.” Evan knew he should probably get up, should probably walk to the hospital or find someone to drive him, but he was so tired. He felt lightheaded. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his blood seeping into the grass. It looked cool, like some sort of edgy album cover. Evan felt his eyelids droop, and soon enough, drifted off to sleep once more. 

“Oh my god!” 

“Oh my god is he dead!” 

“Harold! Harold, I think this little boy is dead!”

“Son? Son are you alright?”

Evan opened his eyes slowly to see an old man gently shaking his shoulder. The old man gasped when he saw Evan move. 

He turned to the old woman behind him. “Oh thank god! Sheila, he’s not dead.” The old man turned back to Evan. “What happened?” 

“I fell out of a tree,” Evan said. Which was a lie. Evan lied a lot. 

“Oh you poor dear!” The woman, Sheila, said. “Where are your parents?” 

“‘M here by myself,” Evan mumbled. 

“What’s your name, son?” The old man asked him. 

“Jared Kleinman.” Evan wasn’t sure why the name of his mom’s best friend’s son, who was historically an asshole to him, was the first name that popped into his head, but whatever. Now he had to roll with it. 

“How old are you, Jared?” 

“Seventeen.” Fourteen. 

“Do you have a cell phone, or anyone we can call?” 

He knew he should tell them to call his mom, but she was working, and he also didn’t want to deal with how worried she would be. Besides, he’d already lied about his name and his mom wouldn’t understand why Jared Kleinman needed her to take him to the hospital. 

Evan shook his head, and then cringed in pain. The old man grimaced. 

“Harold, we should take him to the hospital,” Sheila said. 

Harold nodded. “Alright son. Up you go.” Harold bent down and picked Evan up. He was surprisingly strong. Evan was a little embarrassed to be carried, but at the same time he hurt too much to walk. 

Harold and Sheila’s car smelled like mothballs and warm milk. Evan felt sort of ridiculous laying splayed out in their backseat. What if they were actually murderers and weren’t driving him to the hospital but out to some secluded cabin the woods to feast on his flesh. Logically he knew that wasn’t what would happen, but a thousand different scenarios flashed through his mind, all of them more gruesome and detached from reality than the last. 

He was completely engrossed in his fantasies when the car jerked to a stop. 

“Jared?” Sheila’s voice asked from the front seat. Evan was momentarily confused before remembering that he’d given the old couple a fake name. He wasn’t sure why he’d done that. For Evan, lies often came more naturally than the truth. He should probably work on that at some point. 

Harold helped him out of the car and into the waiting room, not carrying him this time but still taking the brunt of Evan’s weight. Sheila explained what had happened to the woman at the front desk, and then they were gone. 

“Jared Kleinman?” One of the nursed called out after about forty-five minutes. Shit. Now Evan was going to have to explain why he was going under a false name.

“Uh, um, erm, uh, th-that’s uh m-me,” He called out, waving his hand like an idiot. The nurse came over to him and opened her mouth to say something, but Evan continued speaking. “Except um that’s not uh, a-actually m-my name? I-I don’t k-know why I used a f-fake n-name exactly uh b-but I d-did, b-but m-my n-name is Ev-Evan H-Hansen? I d-dunno why th-that sounded like a question it’s n-not a question m-my name is Evan H-Hansen.” 

The nurse looked at him quizzically, but crossed out the name on her clipboard and wrote something else, which Evan hoped was “Evan Hansen.” Who knows. Maybe it was “crazy suicidal kid who lies about his name.” 

“Okay… Evan,” The nurse said. “What happened?”

“Um, I uh, w-well you see, it’s kind of a funny story, what happened was I um, I f-fell… ou-out of a tree.” 

“You fell out of a tree?” She gave him a look like “ _ this kid is a fucking idiot also I’m totally not buying his bullshit story someone get me a straight jacket _ .” 

“Uh, yes? I m-mean. Yes. I d-did.”

“How?”

“W-well I, I mean, first I climbed the tree, you know, I um, I l-like trees and I w-was like ‘oh l-look there’s a t-tree I w-wanna uh, get up on th-that um… bark.’ Uh. Th-that d-din’t make any sense but I um, well, I w-wanted to be in the tree, so I cl-climbed it and then I w-was in th-the tree, you know f-from the climbing and then I was like ‘oh uh this is n-nice’ and then the um, well you see, the… uh… the branch! It, um, it sn-snapped! A-and I w-was l-like ‘oh no,’ c-cause I w-was falling and I didn’t w-want to be falling b-because wh-who would want to fall out of a t-tree, right! I m-mean how st-stupid is that! S-So anyway, I uh, f-finished falling, um, and then I w-was on the g-ground f-for awhile, n-not a l-long while but for a, um, a bit and th-then H-Harold and Sheila f-found m-me and n-now I’m here, and uh, th-that’s, that’s what h-happened!” 

The nurse raised her eyebrows. “Riiiight.” She scribbled something on her clipboard. Evan felt like he was going to puke. “So, Mr. Hansen, we can admit you, but we’re going to need some parental contact information. You’re… seventeen?”

“F-four, um, I mean, I’m, ah, I’m fourteen.” 

The nurse raised her eyebrows even higher at this, and marked something else on her clipboard. Evan wondered briefly what the science was behind the fact that every time she marked her clipboard he lost five years off of his life. Should he tell her he was trans? Did that matter if it was just an arm? Did he have some sort of arm bone that other guys didn’t that would give him away? No, that was ridiculous, someone would’ve told him about some secret XX specific fibula. And it wasn’t like they’d look at his… parts… when treating him for his arm. But he did take hormones… what if his puberty blockers fucked with the anesthetic and he died? 

“ _ Then you’d be dead, dumbass. Isn’t that kind of the point? _ ” 

Oh. Right. 

He decided not to say anything. 

“Alright then. Can I have the phone number of a parent or guardian?”

Evan relayed his mom’s phone number with the least amount of stuttering possible. The nurse scribbled one last thing down, then smiled at him. 

“Alright, Evan. Let’s take you on back.”

 

~

 

Being passed out was a weird experience. Alana was sometimes vaguely aware of things that were going on around her, but not enough to actually process them. She registered her dad coming and picking her up and she heard him crying out for her to wake up, but it was like it was happening in the house down the street. There wasn’t really anything Alana could do about it. 

She felt heavy, but also floaty, and woozy, sort of sick. It reminded her of being seven and spinning around the garden for too long, then falling down on the grass and looking up at the sky. Her grandmother would poke her head in over Alana’s face, but she was blurry, both because of the dizziness and the fact that Alana used to rarely wear her glasses since someone at school called her “girl-urkel.”

“Hello Lana-Pana,” Her grandmother would say. “I can see you’ve gotten your eyes tied up six ways to Sunday!” And then Alana would laugh, and her grandmother would lay down on the grass next to her “so she didn’t look as much like a spinning cockatoo,” and when Alana felt better they would go inside and have tea. 

Alana wished her grandmother was with her, holding her hand while her dad erratically drove the subaru. Alana knew she should open her eyes, talk to her dad, tell him she was okay, or better yet, tell him that she wasn’t. She should break down and let herself be vulnerable and scared and broken and whatever else there was locked up in her constriction of a heart, but she couldn’t.

She was so tired.

She was too tired. 

She just… couldn’t.

 

~

 

Jared’s head hurt like a motherfucker. Of course, this wasn’t the first time he’d had a hangover, but  _ damn _ . He felt like someone was banging a snare drum inside his ear canal. He rolled over and grasped for blankets, trying to block out the sun that was beating against his closed eyes. 

He couldn’t find any blankets. Whatever. He probably just kicked them off or something, or maybe he was sleeping on the floor. Wouldn’t be the first time. Jared rolled over, burying his head in the dewy grass. 

Wait. 

Grass? 

The fuck?

Jared rolled around a bit, trying to get a feel for his surroundings. He opened his eyes, trying to ignore the screaming protests from his head, and waited for his eyes to adjust. He looked up and saw a clear blue sky, with birds swooping overhead. Okay, he was definitely outside. That was… new. 

Jared sat up and searched for his glasses. He patted the ground a bit until he felt them. He grabbed them and fixed them on his face. They were broken. Great. 

He tried to see past the snaking cracks in the glass and get a good look at where he was. He saw a tree, a pond, and a bench. Okay, he was in a park. But, which park? 

Jared shakily stood up, trying to find a sign that would tell him where exactly he was. He took a few wobbly steps, leaning against the tree trunk for support. 

“Hey!” He heard someone call. “Hey, kid!” 

Jared swiveled his head, trying to find the source of the voice. He saw some figures in blue approaching him. Oh shit. He briefly considered making a run for it, but due to his current state, that would only embarrass him. Jared slumped against the tree trunk, awaiting his fate.

“Jared Kleinman!” His mother’s sharp voice cut through the bustling police station. Jared slowly raised his head from his hands. The policemen had give him some advil and a shock blanket, then made him take a breathalyzer test, and called his parents. 

“Hey mom,” Jared croaked. 

Jared’s parents sat down, one on either side. “Jare,” His dad said, putting a hand on Jared’s shoulder. “What happened son?”

Jared shrugged. “I just… had a rough night.”

A tear slipped down his mother’s cheek. “Don’t say that, Jared! You didn’t  _ just _ have a rough night! You were passed out in a park an hour out of town!” 

Jared had no idea what to say to that. 

“Son,” His father said, running a hand through his hair. “You can tell us… you can tell us anything. You know that right?”

“Baby, have you been feeling… suicidal?” His mother asked. Jared balked. 

“What? No! Why would you think that!” 

“Well… we were in your room…” Jared’s face went white. “We wanted to see if you had any drugs or alcohol in there, and we um… we found your journal.”

Jared was outraged. “What the hell! You can’t just invade my privacy like that!” 

His father cut in, “Jared, you were apprehended by the police!” 

“That doesn’t give you an excuse -”

Jared’s mother pulled out a black spiral notebook. Jared’s journal. Well, it was actually his math book, but sometimes in class he would get distracted and end up pouring his heart out into it. She flipped to a page and started reading.

“I disgust myself. I’m so rotten inside, and everyone can see it. That’s why they only like me when I’m drunk. I feel like I have a swirling vortex in the pit of my stomach threatening to suck me up. If I…” She wiped tears from her face and sniffled. “If I died tomorrow, no one” Her voice broke. “No one would care. Th-they wouldn’t even notice,” His mom wiped tears away, and whispered. “They’d probably be happy.” 

Jared stared at his shoes. 

“Jared,” His father started. Jared reached over and grabbed the notebook out of his mother’s hands. 

“I can’t believe you would read that!” He yelled. “I’m fine, okay! I don’t need your pity or sympathy or whatever! Just… take me home and you can check off your good parent quota for the day, alright. Then you can go to some real estate party and not have me on your conscience.” 

His mother wrapped her arms around him. “Jared, baby, we love you. We had no idea.”

“How could you,” Jared said bitterly. “It’s not like you pay any fucking attention.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i quite like this chapter 
> 
> pls comment because the only difference between a weasel and a ferret is that a ferret is domesticated
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns))


	3. Awkward Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which evan has a flip phone, alana is trying her best, and it's the amazing asshole, jared kleinman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Swearing, Talks of Suicide, Talks of Death, Hospitals, Thought Spirals

Evan felt like he was going to throw up. He gripped the sides of the passenger seat of his mom’s Subaru so tightly that his knuckles turned completely white. His mom reached over and rubbed circles on his back. 

“Baby, I know you’re nervous, but I really think it’ll be good for you.”

Evan didn’t say anything. He doubted anything would come out if he tried. 

His mom continued. “Besides, Doctor Sherman is supposed to be very nice. And all the other kids there will have similar experiences as you. Maybe you’ll make some friends!”

Evan squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he tried to compress his entire body into the tightest arrangement possible he would just pop out of existence. 

His mom sighed. “Evan, I don’t know what else to do. You won’t talk to me, and I can’t just leave you at home by yourself…” He felt her eyes drift to his cast. That had been a fun conversation.

His mom had rushed to the hospital when she’d gotten the call. She’d run to his bedside, an absolute wreck. She asked what happened, and he fed her the same story about falling from the tree. She hadn’t believed him. 

“No,” She’d said. “I know my son, he’s been climbing trees his entire life, something like this wouldn’t just… happen!” She begged him to tell her what was really going on. He’d tried to assure her he was fine. “Cut the bullshit, Evan! I know when you’re lying to me!” 

He didn’t budge. 

“Fine,” His mom had said. And then she’d signed him up for an IOP, or “Intensive Outpatient Program.” Some sort of suicide support group for kids who weren’t quite crazy enough to live in the loony bin, but weren’t quite sane enough to be trusted with their shoelaces. Maybe his mom was right. Maybe this was were Evan would finally find friends. They could all swap secrets on how to keep their scars hidden from parents, or talk about the best tasting types of bleach. True teenage bonding. 

“Hey, I know!” His mom said, suddenly perky again. “Why don’t you get the other kids to sign your cast! That’ll be a great ice breaker!” 

Evan wanted to say: “ _ Yeah, mom I can see it now. Oh how did you try to off yourself? Oh, I jumped out of a tree. Want to sign the clunky reminder of my failure? _ ” 

But instead he just shrugged. “G-Great,” He stuttered out in a flat voice. 

His mom smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek, then fished a sharpie out of her purse and handed it to him. 

“I’m proud of you already!” 

Evan sighed and shakily got out of the car, staring up at the large, gray building looming over him. He pulled out his phone and flipped it open to glance at the time. 

4:58. 

He wasn’t late, they said that you should try to get there around five and they would actually start at five fifteen, but Evan’s stomach still began doing gymnastics. What if this was the wrong building? What if it was actually Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays not Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays? What if daylight savings happened and he’d just forgotten and they actually started an hour ago? 

Evan stood outside the building for awhile, waiting for someone else to pull up and help him. He was also terrified that someone would help him. He just wanted to leave. Maybe no one would notice if he just walked to the park a few blocks away and spend the two hours there instead. Evan was starting to seriously consider this when a girl with black braids and purple glasses walked up next to him. 

“Hi!” She said. Her shiny pink braces gleamed in the sun. “Are you here for the IOP?” 

Evan nodded dumbly. The girl smiled. 

“That’s awesome!” She said. “So am I! It’s my first day. I’m really nervous. I’m Alana, by the way. What’s your name?”

“E-Evan,” Evan whispered. He couldn’t help but wonder why this girl needed to be at an IOP. She was outgoing and friendly. She looked like the picture of extroverted productivity. 

“Evan! That’s a great name!” 

“Th-thanks. I ch-chose it m-myself,” Evan said. He knew that was kind a weird joke to make, especially since he was stealth, but he’d seen in on an LGBT Humor website and wanted to try it out. Thankfully, Alana didn’t question it. She just sort of laughed and continued on talking. Evan wasn’t completely sure she’d even heard what he said. 

“Anyway, Evan, do you want to walk group with me? We’re supposed to be in Conference 4C.” Evan nodded. Alana smiled and pulled a folded up piece of paper out of her pocket. It was a map. Damn this girl was prepared. She started walking quickly, and Evan hurried after her. 

 

~

 

Alana was freaking out. She’d been out of her car for, what, two minutes? And she’d already attached herself to some blubbering kid who was probably looking for a way to tell her didn’t have any interest in being friends with an overenthusiastic motormouth. 

Also, she’d brought a printed out map because she didn’t want to get lost. But no one else had a printed out map! And Evan was looking at her like she was crazy. She guess that she was crazy, after all, why else would she be here. But he was here too, so at least she wasn’t crazy and alone. 

The conversation she’d had with her dad when she’d woken up at the hospital had not been fun. First of all, his eyes were red and puffy, like he’d been crying. He used to cry a lot, right after her grandma died. And sometimes she would catch him in his room crying and holding something that was her mom’s, or her grandma’s. She hated seeing him cry. She hated being the reason he was crying even more. 

“Hey daddy,” Alana had croaked. Her father raised his head from his hands and looked over at her. 

“Morning Lana-Pana,” He said softly, smoothing down her hair. “You scared me baby girl.”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Alana whispered. 

“Lon,” Her dad said, crouching next to her and kissing her softly on the forehead. “Are you alright?”

Alana felt hot tears gathering behind her eyes. “No,” She said, trying to keep them all back. Her dad searched her face with eyes pleading eyes. 

“Please baby girl, tell me what’s wrong.”

And so she did. 

She told him how she didn’t want to eat. How she was so on edge all the time. How she was jittery and fluttery and never felt completely on the ground. Part of her was always off floating somewhere. She couldn’t sleep. She was too worried, about everything. Everything was the biggest deal in the world, and she was crumbling under the crushing weight of it all. She told him how she just wanted to be in control, but her life was like water slipping through her fingers. She was so scared, and so stressed, and so exhausted, and passing out from lack of sleep and a botched drug concoction was the best sleep she’d gotten in a month and wasn’t that fucked up and help her daddy please she didn’t know what was wrong with her and she hated it. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m being stretched so thin that I’m just going to pull apart at the seams,” She said quietly. “And sometimes I think that would be nice. It would all be so much easier if I was here at all.” 

Her dad listened. She could see the heartbreak written all over his face, but he listened. He tried to be calm, to show her the support she clearly needed. They talked for a long time. They talked until neither of them had any voice left. And eventually, they both agreed that sending Alana to an IOP with other suicidal/anxious/mentally ill or whatever kids would be a good idea. 

The walked into the hospital, trying to locate an elevator that would take them to the fourth floor, which was pediatrics. Alana tried to make small talk, but Evan wasn’t giving her anything. 

“So, uh,” She began. She wanted to ask why he was there, but that would be rude. “How’d you break your arm?”

“I um,” Evan’s face when completely white. Shit. Shit. Abort. Alana needed to say something else. 

“My grandma broke her hip a few summers ago,” She said. “Getting into the bathtub. The doctor’s said that it was the beginning of the end, because then she got pneumonia and died.” 

_ “What the fuck, Alana!?”  _ She thought. Evan was staring at her, brandishing a sharpie, eyes wide and mouth opened. Alana laughed a little bit and then turned around. He definitely hated her, which was fair. She just opened her mouth and started talking. Who brings up their dead grandmother right after they meet someone? 

“Um, here’s the elevator!” She said, jabbing the “UP” button. Her voice sounded weird. Evan probably thought she was a sociopath who was in the IOP for murdering her grandmother. That didn’t make sense, they wouldn’t put murders in an IOP for suicidal kids? Then again, wasn’t suicide sort of like murder? Murder of oneself?

“ _ Oh my god am I going to be sharing a class with murderer? _ ”

The elevator dinged. They got to the fourth floor and found the conference room in awkward silence. They walked into conference room 4C and saw four other equally awkward kids milling around. Alana and Evan stood near each other, not talking, before Evan was swept away by some short kid in glasses.

 

~

 

How fucking stupid were Jared’s parents? They actually thought that using Evan “Bitchass” Hansen as a bargaining chip would make him agree to go to their dumbass loony bin seminar or whatever the fuck. 

Fuck this.

Fuck Evan Hansen

Fuck Jared’s parents.

And fuck this inpatient out-tensive bullshit. 

His mom marched him to the Conference Room where he would be held prisoner for the next two hours because she didn’t trust him to actually go. Which, okay, was fair, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be pissed about it. 

Thankfully, she didn’t escort him inside the room. This thing may be full of psychopaths, but Jared still wanted to make a good impression.

He immediately spotted Evan talking to some girl whose entire look just screamed “I’m going to try and sell you cookies for a student council fundraiser.” He unceremoniously grabbed Evan by the crux of his (not broken) arm, and pulled him to the corner. Evan may be a bitch, but he was Jared’s bitch, and Ms. Prep School couldn’t have him. 

“So,” Jared said. “How does it feel to be the first person in history to break your arm from jacking off too much?” Evan’s face went red. Jared was hoping he would retort, and they would have some fun banter, but Evan didn’t have a sarcastic bone in his body, so he just looked down and fidgeted with his shirt.

“That’s n-not what h-happened,” Evan said. God, even his voice was annoying. It was all whimpery and blubbery. Jared couldn’t stand this kid. “I -”

“Yeah, I don’t actually care.” 

“Oh.” 

It was silent for a minute. 

“D-Do you w-want to s-sign m-my cast?” 

Jared stared at Evan. What angle was he playing at? Was he trying to convince his mom he had friends? There was no way Evan actually wanted Jared to sign his cast. Evan didn’t like him. Evan wasn’t his friend. Jared’s only friends were his drinking buddies, not this fucking turtle. 

“No. Why would I want to do that! We aren’t friends, just  _ family  _ friends.” Evan’s face fell. Shit. What if he went crying to Aunt Heidi, and then she told his mom. “But make sure to tell your mom to tell my mom I was nice to her, so she’ll stop riding my ass.” Evan didn’t say anything. They waited in silence for the actual session to start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus christ school started today and i am just trying my best to past the test and surviiiiiiiiiiiiiive because like got damn. 
> 
> pls comment because president william taft once got stuck in a bathtub 
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns))


	4. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the iop officially starts, and in (around) 2014, they write letters, they write letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Swearing, Suicidal Themes, Suicidal Ideation, Implied/Referenced Suicide Attempts, Self Hatred, Eating Disorders, Alcoholism

Evan zoned out for most of the session. In his defense, he didn’t actively try not to listen. He didn’t actively try to _listen_ either, but that was besides the point.

It was hard to get into it at first, because Jared kept bugging him. Then Dr. Sherman started going over rules and procedures, and who cares about that? Then Evan’s cast was itchy, then he saw a bird out the window… and okay, maybe he just didn’t give a shit. He was only there to make his mom happy, after all.

He tuned back in about ten minutes before the end.

“And now for your assignments,” Dr. Sherman said. Everyone stared at him blankly. Evan wondered if anyone had been paying attention. Dr. Sherman chuckled uneasily. “Well don’t ask all your questions at once!” He said. He reached into his desk and pulled out a stack of spiral notebooks. “To inspire positive thinking, we’re going to be starting a project called ‘Sincerely Me.’” He started passing the notebooks out. “Basically, you’re going to write a letter to yourself listing all the reasons why today is going to be a good day.” He walked over to the whiteboard and started writing something. “For example, ‘Dear Dr. Sherman, today is going to be a good day and here’s why. Because today, you got to meet eight wonderful kids. Sincerely, Me.’ Of course, you’ll want them to be a little bit longer than that. Then, at the next session, you’ll turn in your letter, and if you want, you can share it with everyone else.” He turned to everyone and smiled. There was no response.

“Alright. Well. I’ll see you all on Thursday.”

 

~

 

Alana liked to consider herself someone who excelled in school. She didn’t have trouble concentrating, or losing herself in work. Usually, she could tackle a new assignment with excitement and vigor, but this was… different.

The session was mind numbing. Dr. Sherman talked about coping mechanisms and positive thinking, about writing little reminders to yourself on why you’re a good person. What bullshit. Alana didn’t want some stupid advice she could find in an American Girl Doll “Love Yourself” book.

And this “Sincerely Me” thing. What was she supposed to do? Ignore all the bad things in the world and find superficial reasons not to kill herself? That kind of thinking was exactly what had gotten her in this situation in the first place.

 

~

 

There was no way in fuck Jared was going to go along with this glorified diary entry. Fuck this.

 

~

 

~~_Dear Evan Hansen,_ ~~

~~_Today is going to be a good day, and here’s why. Today you… you talked to someone new! Alana. She seems nice. So there’s that. And… you have… uh._ ~~

 

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Let’s be honest. Today isn’t going to be a good day. Why would it be? You haven’t had a good day in years. What even is a good day? You wouldn’t know. You’re too much of a fucking mess. You ruin everything you touch. You made your mom all worried because you couldn’t even fucking kill yourself right. You’re pathetic. You’re worthless. Not even Jared Kleinman likes you. He’d rather have no friends then hang out with you. Can you blame him? It’s not like anyone would ever want to be around you. You can’t get out a fucking sentence._

_Sincerely,_

_Me._

 

~

 

~~_Dear Alana Beck,_ ~~

~~_Today is going to be a good day, and here’s why. You ate one half of an apple today! So that’s cool. You talked to your dad… sort of. I mean, you didn’t tell him everything. Or anything really. But it’s a start! You can do it!! What else. You… you… uh…_ ~~

 

_Dear Alana Beck,_

_Today is not going to be a good day. But you’re going to pretend it is! Because positive thinking! No one wants to listen to you whine about how awful your life is, about how terrible you feel. You have no reason to be so stressed out, so you should just stop. You should just go eat dinner, and go to bed. But you won’t! Because you hate yourself! And why the fuck wouldn’t you? Why feel guilty about eating an apple you piece of shit. You’re never going to amount to anything. You’re a burden. There’s a reason why you don’t have any friends._

_Sincerely,_

_Me._

 

~

 

_~~Dear Jared Kleinman,~~ _

~~_This is stupid._ ~~

~~_Sincerely,_ ~~

~~_Me._ ~~

 

_Dear Jared Kleinman,_

_Today is going to be a good day, and here’s why! Your parents left for… oh who knows where! They threw you in the loony bin, so it doesn’t fucking matter that you’re all alone! At least you have that champagne from Rosh Hashanah 2003! You can get wasted, and forget all the reasons why you’re an asshole. You can forget how gross you are. You can forget how no one loves you! You can forget how mean you were to Evan Hansen today. Evan Hansen, the only kid who’s never been mean back to you. No matter he and Aunt Heidi barely ever talk to you anymore. You wouldn’t fucking talk to you! Why are you so mean to him anyway? Cause he’s annoying? Or because he’s everything you fucking hate about yourself, you twisted fuck. But, you don’t have to think about that, because you can already feel a buzz coming on. Today is going to be a good day indeed._

_Sincerely,_

_Me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woot woot this chapter was really hard to write lol but now i'm back in a groove so we are all good
> 
> pls comment because ticks will attach themselves to spiders and slowly eat them, and the spider doesn't notice until it's too late
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns))


	5. Everything Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which evan is upset, alana is having a hard time, and jared does a bad, bad thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: TRANSPHOBIA (pls pls pls be safe!), Swearing, Eating Disorders, Bullying, Self Hatred, Anxiety, Minor Sexism, Thought Spirals

The next two weeks of summer dragged out in dull, monotonous routine. Evan would spend half his time laying in bed on his computer, and half his time at the IOP or with Jared. For some reason, their parents thought it would be a great idea if they could bond over their mental illnesses. Or maybe they were just worried that if either of them was alone, they’d end up dead. Whatever the reason, for the first time since second grade, Jared and Evan were stuck together. And neither one of them was happy about it.

“Okay, okay, okay, fuck, marry, kill, Mitchi Robinson, Hannah Taylor, and Alana Beck.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Jared, th-that’s d-demeaning to women.”

Jared scoffed. “Please. If anything, it’s flattering. Now c’mon. There’s only one other girl to choose from in our IOP but I’m pretty sure she’s like you.”

“L-Like me?”

“Ya know…” Jared gestured vaguely to Evan.

Evan raised his eyebrows.

Jared made an exasperated noise. “Trapped in the wrong body, or whatever!”

“You mean trans?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah.”

Evan sighed. “O-Okay… Jared… th-three things. One, d-don’t speculate about p-people’s g-genders o-or sexualities or wh-whatever. It’s unhelpful. T-Two, don’t s-say trapped in the w-wrong body. L-Like… just s-say trans. J-Just… okay? And th-three… f-fuck H-Hannah Taylor, m-marry Alana B-Beck, and kill Mitchi Robinson.”

“You’d marry Alana Beck?”

Evan shrugged. “O-Out of those th-three. Sh-She’s nice.”

“She’s crazy.”

“I-Isn’t th-that the p-point of the th-thing?”

Jared laughed. “You’ve got a point. But wait, Hannah? I never pegged you as someone who’d like punk rockers.”

“Wh-what can I s-say. I l-love a r-reble type. Also M-Mitchi is m-mean.”

“Yeah.” Jared paused. “We made out.”

“Y-You and M-Mitchi? No way.”

He shrugged. “We were drunk. It was after a Saturday IOP and I didn’t want to go home and deal with my grandmother being over for Sabbath, so we got smashed at her house, and then she wanted to make out.”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “W-What was it l-like.”

Jared shrugged once more. “Eh. I mean… it was whatever. Definitely not the best kiss I’ve ever had but… not the worst. I didn’t really feel… anything. To be honest.”

There was a lull in the conversation.

“How are your letters going?” Jared asked. Evan rolled his eyes.

“N-Not great. Mostly I j-just write b-bullshit hallmark s-sayings like ‘G-Getting better everyday!’ or ‘It’s easy t-to make a d-difference if you j-just try!’ or ‘N-Next t-time I’m sad I’ll just t-take a walk!’”

“Yeah. This assignment is dumb.” Jared glanced at a spiral notebook on Evan’s desk. “Is this your letter notebook? I want to see if he writes shit in yours like he does in mine.”

Evan lunged. “W-Wait no J-Jared don’t that’s m-my -”

“‘ _I try to speak but nobody can hear_

_So I wait around for an answer to appear_

_I’m watching everybody pass_ ’

What is this, Hansen? Poetry?”

Evan’s face burned completely red. “N-No!” He looked at his shoes and mumbled, “It’s m-my songbook…”

Jared laughed. “Oh my god you write songs! What is it, forest pop? Odes to Pinetrees?”

“No!” Evan said forcefully. “It’s just… it’s n-nothing, okay? It’s n-not good, I k-know that, so c-can you j-just give it b-back please?”

Jared barrelled on like he hadn’t heard anything. “You know, you should write a song about these dumb letters, and then play if for Sherman.”

“No, I c-couldn’t, I d-don’t, I… I can’t… I d-don’t play th-them for anyone. N-Not even m-my mom, okay? Y-You’re the only p-person who even k-knows about them so pl-please can you just -”

Jared started singing off key. “My name is Evan Hansen, I like to fuck trees, and also I’m so sad and I cut myself at night -”

“ _SHUT THE FUCK UP JARED!_ ”

Jared started. “Yeesh. Jesus. Okay. Here’s your fucking song book back, John Lennon.”

Evan took the book back, hastily closing it and throwing it in his desk drawer.

Jared tapped his fingers on his leg. “You wanna go to my house and watch me play video games?”

 

~

 

_Dear Alana Beck,_

_Today is going to be a good day, and here’s why. Today you don’t have to do anything! You can just sit on the couch and_

 

“Hey Lana-Pana,” Her dad said, dropping down next to her with two mugs of tea. “What are you up to?” Alana close her notebook and took the mug gingerly.

“Nothing,” She mumbled, taking a sip and burning the roof of her mouth.

Her dad searched her face. “How are you doing?” He asked softly.

Alana shrugged. “I’m fine, dad,” She said, avoiding eye contact.

Her dad sighed. “How’s your thing going? At the hospital.”

“It’s fine.”

“Have you made any friends?”

“I’m not there to make friends, dad.” There was a pause. “No. They don’t like me. No one really likes me.”

“What do you mean, Lon?”

Alana scoffed. “Dad, don’t kid yourself. You know i’m not… likeable. I don’t gel with people. I intimidate them, I make people feel uncomfortable. I don’t know how to shut my mouth or talk to people without being bossy and domineering.”

“Alana -”

“And I can pretend it’s because I’m better than them, pretend it’s because I’m smarter or more mature or destined for greater things than Nowheresville, Illinois, but… in the end… they have people that like them. All I have is anxiety and a superiority complex.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way baby.”

“I know.”

“College will be better. I promise.”

“Yeah. I know.” She took a deep breath. “Graduate high school at sixteen, graduate Harvard at nineteen, then grad school, then New York, then the U.N., then Supreme Court. And then I’ll be happy.”

Her dad gave her a look she couldn’t quite place. He was quiet for a minute. “Do you want dinner?”

Alana stared at her plate. Her dad made chicken and mashed potatoes with steamed carrots and strawberries. Plain food that was easy to eat. That’s what the doctor said would be best. He gave her relatively normal portions, but she felt like there was a revolting mountain of greasy food set out before her.

“Alana?” He dad asked, looking up at her. “Are you going to eat, sweetheart?” That wasn’t a question. Her dad would make sure she ate. He would sit there with her, grading papers from his college students until she choked down at least half of her plate. She nodded numbly, not taking her eyes off the food. A sharp pain somewhere between longing and disgust shot through her.

Anorexia Nervosa sounded so… important. Like such a big deal. It conjured up images of stick thin white girls with sallow skin and bulging eyes. Collarbones and ribs that jutted out at unnatural angles. Alana wasn’t like that. She didn’t look like that. She weighed one hundred and thirty pounds, which was actually a bit overweight for a girl her age, at least according to the charts she’d printed up and hung in her closet. Apparently anxiety and eating disorders often correlated. Something about obsessive thinking and over exaggeration being a factor in both.

She wasn’t sure what it was about the food that made her stomach lurch. She gripped the fork and knife tightly, staring at the pale blotches on her hands, the patterns of her vitiligo causing her eyes to swim. She cut into the chicken, and the knife made a loud, screeching sound against the plate. She forced the small bite into her mouth.

It was too dry. Both the chicken and her mouth. It rubbed against her tongue unpleasantly, and slowly descended down her throat. She washed it down with a too large sip of water that did nothing for her dry mouth. She stared at the mashed potatoes, her stomach rejecting the idea, and poked at them with her fork a few times, before settling on a few carrots and strawberries. She cut the chicken a few more times to make it seem like she’d eaten more than she had, and then announced she was done.

Her dad looked up from his essay, twirling the red pen in his hand.

“You’ve barely touched your food.”

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Her voice was quiet and mumbly. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “I had a big lunch.”

“Alana, please. If something’s wrong just tell me.”

“I’m fine dad.”

“Baby, are you starving yourself?”

“No! God, that would be so stupid! I mean, I’m smart enough to know that not eating for an extended period of time actually slows down your metabolism and causes you to gain more weight, so why would I do that?”

“Alana…”

“I’m fine, dad! Okay! The thing a few weeks ago… it was a one time thing. I’m okay. I promise.” Alana felt like needles were pricking at her from under her skin, threatening to break through the surface and expose her as a liar. She took a deep breath, then said louder and more sure of herself, “I’m fine.”

Alana didn’t wait for an answer before she picked up her plate and scraped the rest of it into the trash can, then retired up to her room. She stared at her desk, where a shiny new baggie of adderall and dexedrine lay waiting for her. She bit her lip and sucked in a breath. Not tonight. Not right now.

She whirled around and picked up her violin, pulling out the sheet music for Mozart’s “Requiem In D Minor”.  Alana had picked up violin when she was eight after reading that kids who played instruments had better test scores and were less likely to develop alzheimer's. She had fallen in love with playing, and had since learned the cello and the electric bass. Music was the only escape that didn’t make her feel terrible about herself. She also secretly liked to sing, but was self conscious about her voice, and only did it when she was alone.

She played for hours, until her fingers were sore and her bow needed resin and the screeching of the instrument drowned out the noise in her head. She played until she couldn’t play anymore, then finally she slept.

 

***

 

Jared glanced over at Evan, who was curled up in the corner of his couch. Evan Hansen had been a part of Jared’s life for as long as he could remember. His mom and Evan’s mom, his Aunt Heidi (who wasn’t actually his aunt) had been best friends since their senior year in high school. They’d both been cheated on by the same guy… with each other… and had dumped him to go to senior prom together. They were also the only two Jewish girls in their high school, even though Jared’s family had always been much more devout. They hadn’t meant to get pregnant at the same time but it had happened. He knew that both his mom and Aunt Heidi wanted him and Evan to be best friends. But they just… weren’t.

It started when they were little. Jared didn’t want to play with Evan, because he thought Evan was a girl, and girls were gross and had cooties. Evan would get mad and throw a tantrum whenever Jared said that, screaming “I’M NOT A GIRL! STOP SAYING THAT!” over and over and over again. Jared wondered why the kid had even had to come out. He’d been pretty adamant about it since the beginning.

Around second grade, the moms realized that it just wasn’t happening. Jared didn’t hate Evan, they just didn’t have any similar hobbies or interest in each other. Then, at age twelve, something shifted.

Jared had already been feeling bad about himself. He didn’t want to look in the mirror, because he didn’t like his body. He didn’t want to go to school, or get out of bed. He was just so unhappy with himself. And there was Evan. Perfect fucking Evan. Everyone loved Evan. Everyone fawned over Evan. Jared’s mom was always talking about how brave Evan was just for being himself. But Evan wasn’t brave! He’d come over for dinner every other Sabbath, and afterwards they would sit in Jared’s room and Evan could barely stutter through a fucking sentence. He didn’t have any friends! He wasn’t off saving the world, the kid couldn’t even get through an English presentation. A black spot of animosity formed on Jared’s heart, growing and growing until the mere sight of Evan made him angry.

One day, Jared just couldn’t take it anymore. He had to do something. Take this kid down a peg. Get him out of his life forever. They were in the boy’s locker room, changing for P.E. Evan went into a stall, as always, and Jared gathered up all the boys, whispering his dastardly secret. Uttering the name that hadn’t crossed his lips since he was ten. The secret of why Evan hadn’t gone to the same middle school as everyone else in his elementary school. At first, they didn’t believe him.

“Then let’s check,” Jared said. An evil, knowing smirk on his face. “Aren’t you curious?”

The boys barged into the stall, seizing Evan and dragging him to the center of the locker room. Evan was crying, screaming, blubbering. He was having the worst panic attack Jared had ever seen.

“Wait, guys, actually, let’s not do this. It isn’t cool. I was just kidding -”

But no one was listening. They held Evan down and ripped off his gym shorts. Jared never said the word himself, but every time it was hurled, he felt Evan’s doe eyes staring at him with a look of utter betrayal, and knew it was his fault.

Evan’s mom started him at a free online school the next day. That night, Jared got drunk for the first time. He knew he was an awful person. He hated himself. He disgusted himself. And the worst part, the part that made him hate Evan more than anything, was that Evan never told a soul. He never ratted Jared out. He still came over every other Sabbath. He still sat in Jared’s room and stuttered through plant facts. He still curled up on Jared’s couch and stared blankly at the T.V.

But Jared knew he wasn’t forgiven. He could never be forgiven. He didn’t want to be forgiven. Jared glanced over at Evan, and apology almost spilling from his lips, but instead he bit his tongue and threw his video game character off of a cliff, watching the blood fill the screen and wishing he could feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took me forever ngl and it was sad but like... yeah. 
> 
> pls comment because bats are the only mammals that can fly, but flying squirrels and gliding opossums can glide in the air for short periods of time
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns))


	6. Infinitesimal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which evan is hurting, alana is hopeful, and jared is changing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic Depictions of Self Harm, Vomit, Alcoholism

Evan watched as salty tears splattered against his still blank cast.

_ Fuck this _ , he thought.

_ Fuck everything _ . 

He stared at the blood stained pocket knife in his hand. His dad had sent it to him for his bar mitzvah. 

“Fuck you,” He mumbled to the knife, dragging it down his arm once again. 

Evan was so sick of everything. He was sick of therapy. He was sick of writing letters. He was sick of Jared, and his mom, and Doctor Sherman. He was sick of the ever present gnawing pit in his stomach, of it’s constant threat to consume him. He was sick of the erratic beating of his heart, of how it kept time to some song he could barely hear and would never understand. He was so sick of his hands, the way they shook from the coldness that sat at the core of his bones, and his arms with their unnatural stripes, hieroglyphics on his skin spilling his darkest secrets. He was sick of his tongue and his brain and they way they refused to communicate. He was sick of his skin and how it could never stay still. He was sick of his body and all the ways it betrayed him. 

And he was sick of his cast, the monument to all the times he’d failed. 

Blood mixed with tears mixed with salt mixed with snot into a disgusting concoction of Evan’s body desperately trying to get as much of him out as possible. He was revolting. 

He didn’t remember why he was so upset. It didn’t matter. It was probably something stupid, like not being able to call and order pizza. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. 5:15. He was officially late. Doctor Sherman would probably call and tell his mom he hadn’t shown up to his session. He couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Numbly, Evan rinsed off the pocket knife and put it back in the old box of camera film he kept in his desk drawer. He washed his arm, using hot water and relishing in the red stinging he felt as his body protested. 

Evan went upstairs, and stared at his wall. He’d taken art in seventh grade, before he transferred out of public school, and one of the units was photography. Evan had loved it. He’d also loved his art teacher. She was so kind and happy. She reminded him of Rachel Elizabeth Dare from the Percy Jackson books he’d loved as a kid. One day she noticed his knack for photography and told him about a project she did in college, where she took pictures of her friends and put them up on a wall. She used all sorts of different cameras: polaroids, disposable cameras, expensive digitals, and it created a really cool aesthetic. On the day Evan transferred out of school she gave him her professional digital camera and told him to take pictures of the things that made him happy. Evan noticed she had a small semi colon tattooed on her thumb. 

Evan loved his picture wall. He had pictures of trees and plants and Lake Michigan and beaches and old houses and his mom. Usually it filled him with comfort, but now he could only see all the things that were missing. People. The only person on his wall was his mom. He didn’t even have a picture of his dad. There were no pictures of friends or siblings or mentors. He felt… so alone. 

Evan walked over to his desk drawer and pulled out an orange prescription bottle. It was filled with different kinds of pills. All of the days of anxiety medication he’d skipped, medicine he’d retrieved for imaginary headaches, the sleeping pills his mom gave him when he had nightmares. It was his fail safe. His back up plan. He stared at the top of the bottle, not sure if he wanted it to pop off or to lock shut. 

He glanced down and saw his songbook. He’d forgotten he’d shoved it in there after Jared had mocked him. Evan dropped the pill bottle and pulled out his notebook, flipping to the song he was currently working on. He grabbed his guitar and the older tuner he had. His dad used to play the guitar, and left one in their house when he moved out. In spite of himself, Evan had picked it up. He didn’t like to think of it’s source. It was too beautiful of a guitar to belong to his asshole father. 

He strummed out a few chords, humming the tune he’d been working on. 

“‘ _ I can’t make a mistake _

_ I always lead with the worst of me… _ ’

No… um…

‘ _ Before I make the mistake _

_ Before I lead with the worst of me. _ ’”

He changed the chord progression.

“‘ _ Step out, step outta the sun if you keep getting burned. _

_ Step out, step outta the sun because you’ve learned, because you learned _

_ On the outside, always looking in, will I, _

_ Ever been more than I’ve always been, cause I’m _

_ Tap, tap, tapping on the glass. _

_ I’m…  _

_ I’m… _ ’

Fuck.’” He hummed out a little melody. 

“ _ I’m dAH dah dah duh-da-dah. _

_ I’m mmMMmmmMmm… _

_ I’m… I’m waving _

_ I’m waving… _

_ I’m waving through a… _

_ I’m waving through a window… _ ’” 

 

~

 

“Alright, for this next exercise I’m going to need everyone to partner up.” 

Alana felt her stomach drop to her toes. She hated group work. It just reminded that she didn’t have friends. Usually in school someone would partner with Alana, expecting her to do all the work, and not talk to her until the day it was supposed to be turned in. Here, she didn’t even have that. No one cared about grades in an IOP! What was Doctor Sherman thinking?

She glanced around the room, looking for someone who she could work with. She needed someone who would be easy to work with, and let her take charge of the project. Also someone who didn’t scare her like some of the kids here did. 

She spotted a short blonde kid fidgeting in the corner, picking at his cast. It was that kid she talked to on the first day… Ethan something or other. No! Evan. It was Evan. She said she like his name and he made a really strange comment about choosing it himself. She walked up to him. 

“Hey,” She said quietly. He jumped. 

“O-oh, um, uh, h-hi, um, yeah, uh, hi,” His face was slowly turning crimson. 

“Um, do you, uh, have a partner? Like for the…” She gestured vaguely at the whiteboard. “The thing?” 

“Uh, um, yes, no, I uh, I do n-not have a p-partner.” He looked down at his shoes. 

“Oh. Uh… do you want… be partners? Like, be my partner?”

“O-Okay.” 

They stood in painfully awkward silence for a minute. 

“No one’s signed your cast!” Alana blurted, and then immediately felt terrible about it. 

Evan avoided her eyes. “N-No, yeah, uh, I kn-know.”

Yeah, duh, Lana, he knows his fucking cast is blank. “Well, I’ll sign it!” 

“Y-You don’t h-have to…” 

“No! I want to. Do you have a sharpie?” 

Evan wordlessly pulled a black sharpie out of his pocket and handed it to her. She gingerly grasped his cast and signed her name in big letters, thinking one small signature would just make the lack of other names obvious. 

Evan gave her a shy smile. “Th-thanks.” 

“Alright,” Doctor Sherman said. “I want you and your partner to get together and research different things you can do to calm yourself. I want three well researched methods from each partnership. When you have your methods, I want you to make a poster explaining how to do them. You can turn this in whenever you like, I just want it done before the end of the twelve weeks.” 

Alana turned to Evan. “Do you want to get together at my house and get started?” 

He shrugged, not making eye contact with her. “I-I guess.” 

She plastered on a fake smile, trying to ignore the fact this boy obviously wanted nothing to do with her. “Great! What’s your number?”

“Will you guys need anything?” 

“Dad, no.”

“C’mon Lonnie! I’m just excited to meet your friend!” 

“Okay first of all, he’s not my friend, we’re just project partners -”

“Psh, details.”

“And second of all, please don’t embarrass me. Don’t like… make it obvious that I don’t have people over a lot.” 

“I won’t. I promise. I’ll be cool. I’m the cool dad.” 

Alana rolled her eyes. There came a tentative knock on the door.

Her dad smiled. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Dad, shush!” Alana ran and opened the door. Evan was standing hunched over on her door stoop. “Hey Evan!” 

He looked up at her, avoiding eye contact as usual. “H-Hey… um, A-Alana.” Alana moved away from the door. 

“Come on in!” 

Her dad waved from the kitchen. “My room’s upstairs!” Alana said, ushering Evan away from her father. They walked up the stairs in silence, and Alana guided Evan into her room. She flopped down on the bed, and after a few second, Evan carefully set himself on the loveseat. 

There was a hot, itchy silence. 

Alana blew a hair out of her face.

Evan fiddled with his cast.

No one said anything. 

“Do you… want to… start the project?” Alana asked, after what felt like forever. Evan shrugged. Alana rolled her eyes and grabbed her laptop off the floor, opening it up. 

After a few more seconds where the only sounds were the spinning fan and the keys on Alana’s keyboard, she spoke again. 

“I’m going to put on some music, okay?” Evan nodded silently, not looking up. Alana sighed and pulled up spotify, turning on her playlist “Propitiate.” Sweet, dulcet tones filled the room. Alana relaxed, and she could see that Evan did too. 

After a few songs, “Infinitesimal” by  _ Mother Mother _ started playing. It had barely started when Evan blurted out: “I l-love this s-song.”

Alana looked up in surprise. If was the first complete sentence she’d heard Evan speak. 

“Really?” She asked. “You like  _ Mother Mother _ ?” 

Evan blushed. “Y-Yeah… th-they’re, uh, one of m-my f-favorite b-bands.”

Alana smiled. “Me too,” She said. “What’s your favorite song?” 

Evan thought for a second. “Um, th-that’s hard b-but… probably, uh, ‘The Stand.’ Off of E-Eureka? I just, um, it’s fun. A-And I really l-like the lyrics. Ya know th-they talk about anxiety and s-stuff but it’s not, um, it’s not bad? L-Like it’s not g-good, but it’s j-just a… a thing? I-It’s a p-part of life and th-they make a song about it w-without getting all p-preachy? Uh, yeah. Wh-What about y-you?” 

“”I really like ‘Little Hands,’ it’s the last song on their first album. It’s just really calming and stuff. I learned it on the bass, actually.”

Evan’s eyes lit up. “Y-You play th-the bass?”

“Yeah.”

“I p-play the g-guitar! And the u-ukulele but th-that’s not really, um, impressive.” 

Alana pushed her laptop off of her lap and sat down next to Evan. “No, that’s super cool! I play the violin and the cello, too but the bass is my favorite. Even though everyone makes fun of it.”

Evan laughed. “Y-Yeah c-cause it’s about as h-hard to learn as the t-triangle!” 

Alana lightly shoved him. “Oh, hush, Mr. Ukulele!”

Evan laughed and playfully stuck out his tongue. 

“We should totally have a jam session sometime,” Alana said without thinking. She mentally berated herself. Evan was just trying to make conversation, he didn’t want to see her anymore than he had too. 

Evan stopped laughing. He looked up at Alana with a fragile smile that reminded her of a baby bird. “Y-Yeah. I-I’d really l-like that.” 

 

***

 

Mitchi Robinson tasted like booze and lime popsicles. Her body pressed uncomfortably against Jared, like they were two puzzle pieces that didn’t go together. How fucking symbolic. Mitchi kissed him sloppily, like she wasn’t really paying attention. Jared kissed her mechanically, like he didn’t really care. He wondered why he was even doing this. It was too hot. It was too loud. He could barely stand his own skin, let alone Mitchi’s. He gently pushed her off. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, her speech slurred. “You thirsty?” She grabbed a bottle of tequila off the coffee table. Jared accepted it, numbly taking a swig. He Could barely feel the burn go down his throat. He didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right. 

He and Mitchi had partnered up for the project. He guessed they were dating now? He didn’t really want them to be, which was dumb. Mitchi was pretty, she liked him, and she knew how to get booze. Jared didn’t know why he wasn’t thrilled. 

“Yes you do,” A voice in Jared’s head said. He ignored the thought, opting for another drink. Mitchi kissed him again. He pushed her off. 

“Mitch, are you okay?” It wasn’t like he didn’t like Mitchi. She was nice. He worried about her sometimes. He knew she was sixteen and last year she had run away from home and her parents found her drunk and half starving a week later. 

“I’m fine…” She said, leaning in for another kiss.

“You’re… you’re pretty drunk. I mean, I am too but you should probably slow down…”

She pouted. “Why don’t you want to kiss me, Jared? Most fourteen year olds would die to be my boyfriend. What are you, gay or something?” 

Jared felt like he was going to throw up. “No it’s not that I don’t want to be your boyfriend it’s just that -”

He was saved from having to explain any further by Mitchi turning and hurling her guts up on the floor. The vomit was mixed with blood and there was foam at her mouth, like she had rabies or something. 

Jared watched from down the street as the ambulance arrived at Mitchi’s friend’s house. He wanted to be there for her, but he couldn’t deal with all the questions. Hot tears pricked at his eyes as he watched the paramedics speed away. 

“Alcohol poisoning,” The lady on the phone had said. “Possibly fatal.” 

Jared’s entire body was shaking. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to go chase his problems away with alcohol, and it scared him. He wanted to talk to someone. He wanted someone to tell him everything would be okay. He wanted to go home, but he couldn’t. Jared wiped away the tears from his eyes, and let his feet carry him where he needed to go. 

He stared up at the familiar door, and, summoning all his resolve, knocked. The door opened up, and Jared’s heart ached when he saw who was behind it. 

“Hey Ev. Um, I, c-can we talk?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yeah i'm love mother mother. I gave you Evan and Alana's fav mother mother songs, so here's everybody else's  
> Jared - Problems (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WHVu9j0S5mM)  
> Zoe - Ghosting (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tlAiq0_BXac)  
> Connor - The Drugs (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xUPhK1y27AY)
> 
> pls comment because 90% of the world population lives north of the equator
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns))
> 
> SONGS REFERENCED:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAXPU6Cdl4A  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=50LShhlkTfw  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btQymz0qIAs  
> guys seriously go listen to mother mother: spotify:artist:0e86yPdC41PGRkLp2Q1Bph


	7. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which jared is sad, alana is gay, and heidi is the best mom
> 
> the timeline for this chapter is a little weird so I'll explain it. evan's section takes place right after the end of the last chapter, and then alana's section skips forward like a week, but the jared's section goes back to the same night as evan's. hopefully that makes sense lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Past homophobia/transphobia, Swearing, Mentions of bullying

Jared Kleinman was on his doorstep. At 2 a.m. 

Jared Kleinman.

On his doorstep.

At two in the morning.

Crying. 

Jared Kleinman.

Jared

Fucking

Kleinman.

Part of Evan wanted to slam the door in his face. 

“Uh, y-yeah, sure, J-Jared, c-come on in.” Evan moved out of the way and Jared walked into his house, taking wobbly steps. 

“Is Heidi here?” He asked through tears. 

Evan shook his head. “She, uh, sh-she’s at w-work.” 

Jared nodded. 

“C-Could I have some t-tissues?” 

Evan ran into the bathroom and grabbed a roll of toilet paper. “I h-hope this’ll w-work,” He said, holding it out to Jared. Jared accepted and blew his nose a few times. He sat up against Evan’s couch, not saying a word until he finished crying. 

Evan fidgeted uncomfortably. He didn’t understand why Jared was there, or why Jared was crying. He and Jared weren’t friends. They didn’t really talk unless they were forced to, and with Evan spending so much time with Alana and Jared spending time with Mitchi they really only talked when Evan and his mom went over for Sabbath Dinner. Evan had wanted to be Jared’s friend until… until he realized Jared had no interest in that. Now they just left each other alone. 

“Hey, um, uh, J-Jared? I d-don’t want t-to be… rude, b-but… why are you h-here?” 

Jared stared down at the floor. “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

Evan sat down next to Jared. “Oh. Um, uh, wh… wh-what happened?” 

Jared was quiet for a second, and then he exploded. “I’M SORRY, OKAY!?” 

Evan jumped. He didn’t understand Jared’s sudden outburst. “Wh-what are you t-talking about? S-Sorry for wh-what?”

“Seventh grade!” Jared yelled. “I ruined your life! I was an asshole! And it’s been eating me up inside for years and I just… I’m…” His voice broke. “I’m sorry, Evan. I’m so fucking sorry,” He dropped his head into his hands and mumbled, “So fucking sorry.” 

Evan didn’t say anything. What could he say? He couldn’t just forgive Jared, or wave it away. That was the second worst day of his life. 

“Oh,” He said stupidly. “I, uh, I d-didn’t know you ever… I didn’t know you remembered that.”

“How could I forget? That was the worst day of my life.”

Evan snorted despite himself. “The worst day of  _ your _ life?” 

Jared laughed humorlessly. “You’re right.” He was quiet for a long time. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone?”

“Wh-what?”

“You could’ve gotten me back. My parents would’ve sent me to… I don’t know… boot camp or something. But you never told them. You never ratted me out. Why not?”

Evan shrugged and said numbly. “What w-would’ve been the p-point. It w-wouldn’t have changed anything. If they… if they k-knew it was you I n-never would be able to g-get rid of it. Our p-parents would always be awkward around each other. I… I just w-wanted to p-put it behind me. I d-don’t need revenge.” 

Jared looked straight forward. Tears fell down his cheek, splattering against the hard wood of Evan’s floor. 

“Mitchi’s in the hospital,” He said, voice barely a whisper. 

“Wh-what?”

“Alcohol poisoning. I called the ambulance.” He was silent. “She might die.”

“Jared, I -”

“I’m so fucking drunk, Evan,” He was laughing but Evan couldn’t see where it was coming from. “ _ So fucking drunk _ , and it isn’t helping. It doesn’t help at all! Why doesn’t it fucking help!? What’s the fucking point! I can’t… I don’t… I still hate myself! I just also have a fucking headache now. It’s not…” Tears fell down his cheeks again. “It’s not helping. Nothing helps. I’m so… I’m so rotten inside, and I can’t not see it. I look at myself in the mirror and I’m not a person, I’m a twisted monster, and no amount of booze can make it go away.” He scratched at his arms. “What else can I do? What the fuck am I supposed to do?” He pulled at his hair. “I’M SICK OF THIS! I’M SO SICK OF ME! I JUST WANT TO LEAVE!” He screamed, face red. 

Jared crumpled to the ground, crying softly. Evan sat next to him and awkwardly placed his hand on Jared’s shoulder. 

“I… I d-don’t know. I don’t k-know what makes it b-better,” He whispered. Evan bit his lip. “I… I j-jumped. Out of th-that tree. I t-tried to kill myself, and I f-failed. And I keep trying to be grateful, t-to be thankful for another d-day, but I c-can’t. I c-can’t bring myself t-to be glad I’m alive. Somedays I d-don’t even know why, I just keep feeling like… like this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” He took a breath. “B-But I’m not d-dead, and I… I don’t k-know why I h-haven’t tried again yet… I j-just… haven’t. A-And maybe I don’t have some profound reason f-for it b-but that’s okay, c-cause I d-don’t need it. I’m just…” He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have any wisdom. He didn’t know how to help Jared. “I d-don’t want you t-to leave, J-Jared.” He laughed. “P-Pathetic as it is, y-you’re my best f-friend. A-And… I c-can’t s-say what you did was okay, b-but I accept y-your apology. I d-don’t know if I f-forgive you. I d-don’t know what that would even mean but… w-we could try again. B-Being friends. B-Being there for each other.” 

Jared pulled him into a tight hug. “Okay,” He said with a shaky breath. Jared pulled away. “There’s um, one more thing that I want to tell you. I’m, um... I’m gay.” 

Evan nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say, what Jared needed him to say. 

“S-Same. Well, k-kinda. I m-mean, I’m b-bisexual.” 

Jared cracked a small smile. “Jesus, Hansen. You always have to make it about you.” 

Evan laughed shakily. “Sh-shut up, K-Kleinman. You’re an a-ashole.”

“But I’m  _ your _ asshole.” Jared was quiet for a second, then spoke again. “Hey Evan, can I sign your cast?” 

 

***

 

Jam sessions with Evan were strange. They’d had their first one a few days after hanging out at Alana’s house, and mostly it was just them sitting on the floor in her room listening to music with instruments in their laps. The next time they went to Evan’s house just watched Brooklyn 99 on Alana’s laptop. It took until their third “jam session” (a week and a half after they first time they hung out) to actually play music. 

Now they got into a rhythm. They’d spend about an hour playing and spend three or four just hanging out, with occasional musical interludes. Eventually, Evan started to show Alana his original songs, and sometimes she would sing along with the stuff she would play. 

“ _ Waving, waving, whoa-oh _ ” 

They held out the last harmony, then set down their instruments. Alana turned to Evan, a big smile plastered on her face. 

“That was so amazing, Evan!” She said. Evan blushed. 

“Th-Thanks.” 

Alana’s phone buzzed. She grabbed it, smiling as she typed out a response. Evan leaned over and looked at her, eyebrow furrowed. 

“Wh-Who are y-you texting?”

She smiled coyly. “No one.”

“Alana…” Evan whined. 

Alana giggled. “Just this girl from one of my summer classes. She needed homework help and then we just sort of started talking from there. Her name is Lexi, she had really cute purple hair and this orange tabby cat named Lester and she’s such a comic book nerd…” She trailed off, smiling at nothing. 

Evan scrunched up his face. “L-Lana, d-don’t take offense to th-this or anything, b-but… are you g-gay?” 

Alana laughed. “No! I don’t have a  _ crush _ on her! I just… really like talking to her, and I want to be around her all the time, and everything she says is amazing, and I think she’s beautiful and I mean would I kiss her? Yeah, but that doesn’t… oh shit.” She trailed off. 

Evan burst out into laughter. 

“I think…” Alana said. “I think I’m gonna go. I… I have to think about some things.” 

Evan nodded kindly. “T-Text me if you n-need anything.” 

Alana’s dad was sitting on the couch when she got home. 

“Hey kiddo,” He said. “You’re early.”

“Yeah… I just…” She sat down and took a deep breath. “Did you ever question your sexuality when you were a kid?” 

Her dad laughed. “Where did that come from?” 

“Just… can you just answer the question?” 

“I guess. I mean, I never liked sports and I enjoyed theatre… so that made me wonder if I was gay, but I never had a crush on any men so…” He sat down next to her. “Why ‘Lon? What’s going on?” 

Alana looked up at him. She wasn’t sure why she was crying, but she was. “I think… um… I think I might have a crush on my friend Lexi. I think that…” She whispered. “I think I’m a lesbian, daddy.” 

Her dad wrapped her up in a hug. “Oh, Lana-Pana, why the sad face? You know that I love you so much for exactly who you are, right?”

She caught salty tears in her eyes when she spoke. “Yeah, daddy, I know, it’s just…” She trailed off. She wasn’t really sure what “it just” was. Her dad rubbed her arms soothingly. 

“Did I ever tell you how my dad died?” 

She shook her head. “You just said he died when you were a kid.” 

“I was seven years old, and it was 1983. My dad got really sick, and he wouldn’t tell me why. I saw a lot of terrible stuff on the news about the plague of the homosexual… when I was twenty three my mom told me that he had aids, and that’s what killed him.” He took a deep breath. “My parents met in college, in 1956, in the deep south. They became fast friends, and everyone always talked about how they were going to get married one day. And they did, and they had me, and they never acted like all the other moms and dads did. They reminded me more of old friends, or brother and sister. I never saw them kiss, or hold hands.” Alana’s dad sighed. “I was twenty-three when I sat on my mother’s couch as she tearfully told me that she was a lesbian, and that my dad was gay, and how that was a beautiful, wonderful, natural and good thing. She told me how they were both so afraid, how it wasn’t safe. How she never got to tell anyone about my dad’s disease, how his lover never got to mourn for him in the way he should’ve. She told me how much she loved me, and how she wished that she didn’t have to hide things like that from me. My mother was the strongest woman I knew, and on that day when we sat on her couch and cried for the life and the love that she never got to have, I promised myself if I ever had a kid who didn’t fit the bill of what society thought they should be, I would make sure they knew that it was society that was wrong, and never them.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “You remind me of my mother everyday, Lana-Pana. You’re strong like her, you’re fierce like her, but you also hide yourself like she did. I know that you’re having a hard time right now, and I just hope you know I am always here for you. I love you so much baby girl. You’re the only one I have left. I promise you that it gets better.”

Alana wiped her eyes. “I love you, dad,” She whispered sobbing into his embrace. 

“I love you too baby girl. Your momma and grandma would be so proud of you.” 

 

***

 

Jared didn’t remember falling asleep on Evan’s couch, but at some point in the early morning, Heidi gently woke him up. 

“Hey, kiddo,” She said. 

“Oh, um, hey Aunt Heidi,” He said, sitting up and putting on his glasses. “What time is it?”

“About six,” She said. She was still in her scrubs. 

“Oh my god, six am? Did you just get home?”

“I got home a few hours ago, I just was so exhausted I forgot to change out of my scrubs!” She laughed. She put her arm around Jared’s shoulders, like she used to when he was six and sleeping over at her house because his parents were out of town. 

“We had a girl come in tonight… I recognized her from you and Evan’s IOP. Minnie, or something.”

“Mitchi,” Jared said quietly. 

“Right, right. Mitchi.”

There was a beat of silence. “Is she going to be okay?” 

Heidi rubbed his arm affectionately. “She’s gonna be fine. Her parents are with her. She got to the hospital in the nick of time. Some boy called 9-1-1. Paramedics never found out who it was, but she told me her boyfriend Jared is the one who called us, and could I please thank him for her, but say that it’s probably for the best that they break up?” 

“How did she know I knew you?” 

Heidi smiled. “I think she was so hyped up on medication that she would’ve given the same spiel to a bedpan.” 

Jared laughed drily. Heidi pulled him tighter. 

“Jare, I’m worried about you. Your mom is worried about you.” 

Jared scowled. “Well then why doesn’t she show it? She’s not the one talking to me right now! She treats me like I’m some math problem she can’t figure out.” 

Heidi sighed. “I know. Jocelyn has always… she’s never been very good at expressing her emotions. Or talking to people. She tends to ignore things until they’re too big of a problem for her to fix alone.” She looked at him. “Remind you of anyone?” 

Jared’s face flushed. He looked away from Heidi’s eagle eyed stare. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Jared said quietly. 

“Baby, you’re fourteen. Of course you don’t.” She smiled. “I’ll tell you a secret. No one knows what to do! Ever.” She smothered him with a hug. “But we love you so much that we are going to work until we figure it out!” Heidi released him from the hug. “You’ve just got to talk to us. We can help you along as much as possible but in the end you’re the only one who can decide you want to change.” 

Jared bit the inside of his cheek. “I know,” He whispered. 

“I know it’s hard, hon,” Heidi said. “But I believe in you. So, so much.” 

Hot tears pricked the back of Jared’s eyes. “You shouldn’t be so nice to me,” He mumbled. 

“Why not?” Heidi asked. 

“It’s my fault that everyone found out about Evan. I told them.”

Heidi sighed and rubbed circles in Jared’s back. “I know baby,” She said quietly. 

“You do?”

“It doesn’t take much critical thinking to figure out. And contrary to his belief, Evan isn’t as good as hiding things from me as he thinks he is.” 

“How do you not hate me?”

Heidi sighed. “I remember when I was twelve, I was in a foster home, and there was a girl who slept on the top bunk who cried herself to sleep every night. She would sing lullabies that her parents used to sing to her through her tears. She was just so sad, so vulnerable. You could see every emotion she had plain as day on her face. One night, I’d had a really rough day, gotten detention at school, I was so mad, and she was just… singing and crying… right above me. So I climbed up the bed, and told her to shut up. Screamed at her for ages, until I couldn’t scream anymore. I didn’t hit her, but I hurt that girl in ways that I can never fix, can never make up for. She didn’t cry as much after that. Eventually, she got adopted. I aged my way out of the system.” Heidi sighed. “I hated that girl because she felt everything that I did, but didn’t hide it the way I did. She shoved all the things I was keeping from myself into my face, and I couldn’t stand it. I did a terrible thing, but I’m not a terrible person, and having some adult hate me for what I did wasn’t going to help me grow, it would only feed into the self hatred where that act came from.” She was silent for a beat. “Evan didn’t want to tell me. You didn’t want to tell me. As much as seeing my baby in pain hurt me, it wasn’t my business to go up against you. I just did what I had to do to protect Evan.” 

Jared pulled Heidi in for a hug, taking in her comforting scent, something he’d been around since childhood. 

“I want to get better,” He said. 

She kissed him on the forehead. “I know, Jared.” 

“I’m so sorry,” He said.

She hugged him tight. “I know, Jared.”

“Aunt Heidi?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Will you take me home? I… I need to talk to my parents about some stuff.”

She ruffled his hair and smiled at him, one of those special smiles parents save for their children, a smile that told you that this person would tear the world apart to make you happy. 

“Of course I will, baby.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl I really really love this chapter
> 
> also!! a new chapter of "This Isn't The End" is coming eventually I just have to write it lololol. I'm gonna do that after I publish this and hopefully it'll be up tonight or tomorrow!
> 
> pls comment because romania and chad have almost identical flags (they only have slightly different shades of blue)
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns))
> 
> AND HEY! My best friend (@secretlyconnormurphy) and I started a Dear Evan Hansen Askblog, @ask-godly-deh on tumblr! It's a greek god/myth of persephone AU with the DEH characters and I've put a lot of thought into this AU and Connie's art is absolutely amazing and if you follow it I will die for you. (Ask a question and I will kill for you). Ofc you don't have to but I'm really jazzed about it and so I'm probably gonna be plugging it like crazy for a while. Sorry not sorry lol. <3


	8. All Is Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which evan talks to heidi, alana talks to the doctor, and jared is trying so hard and i love him for it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Swearing, Mentions of Suicide, Abandonment, Eating Disorders, Self Hatred

Evan felt his bed shift as some sat on the edge. He kept his eyes closed, hoping that they would go away. 

“Come on,” His mother said, shaking his leg. “I know that you’re awake.” 

Evan groaned softly. “No I’m not…” 

His mom laughed. “Evan…”

“Ugh. Fine.” Evan threw the covers off and sat up quickly, cringing at the sudden blood rush. He looked at his mom and sighed. She had the “we-need-to-talk” look on her face. 

“I-Is Jared s-still here?” 

“No. I took him home a while ago. He’s talking with his parents.”

“O-Oh. W-Well. Th-that’s good f-for him.” Evan climbed out of bed, avoiding his mother’s eyes. “I-I should r-really go, um, A-Alana and I h-have plans a-and -”

“Sit. Down.” 

He sat down, looking at his lap. 

“Evan?” 

“Y-Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Jared bullied you?”

“H-He… w-well… b-bullying is such a s-strong word a-and clearly w-we’re fine now so I d-don’t even k-know why you’re b-bringing it up s-so…” 

“Evan, you have to talk to me.”

Evan spoke before he could stop himself. “W-Well it’s hard t-to talk to s-someone who’s never a-around.” He exhaled heavily. “I’m s-sorry that w-was rude I sh-shouldn’t h-have, c-can we p-please be d-done now?”

“Evan, I only work so much because I have to.”

“No, I-I know. I-It’s just…” He sighed. “I u-understand wh-why you’re always g-gone but that doesn’t ch-change the fact that y-you’re always gone.”

“I’m not  _ always _ gone, am I?” 

Evan exhaled. “Y-Yeah. Y-You k-kind of are. A-And I k-know it’s n-not your f-fault and I k-know that if I w-wasn’t around y-you w-wouldn’t have to w-work so m-much and you w-would be able to h-have a life a-and -”

He was cut off by his mother’s bitter laughter. “You are my life, Evan! I… I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I just… I feel like a b-burden? S-Sometimes? I f-feel like I… l-like I’m the w-worst thing to h-happen t-to you?”

Evan’s mom pulled him in for a hug, wrapping her arms around him. “Evan. Baby. You are the best thing to happen to me.”

“I j-just…” Evan wiped at the tears that were falling down his face. “E-Everything is s-so hard. A-And I d-don’t want it t-to be b-but I d-don’t know how to l-live any o-other way.”

Evan’s mom looked at him, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m sorry that it’s hard, love.” She was quiet for a minute. “Do you remember the day your dad left? When you were seven?” 

Evan shook his head. His mom laughed without humor. “It was three days after your first short haircut. You had this big blond mop with swooshy bangs and the hairdresser was worried you’d look like a boy.” Evan let out a quick laugh. His mom went on. 

“He um… he pulled up, with this big U-Haul truck, and you got so excited, - you were right in the middle of your truck phase - so, we um, we let you sit behind the wheel. And your dad, he lifted you up to get you in and out and it was all so normal that I could almost forget why the truck was even there.” She bit her lip.

“And then he left. Just… got his shit… and drove away. And I looked around at this house that… that had all these holes where stuff used to be. Like, a table with a circle in the dust because he’d taken the lamp that used to sit on it, or how my closet was half empty, or how I would look at a familiar wall but it would be missing the painting that used to be on it, or the guitar that used to be propped up against it because he never could bring himself to buy a stand… and… and it all felt so big. And so overwhelming.” She wiped at her cheeks.

“Anyway, that night when I was putting you to bed… you asked me if uh, if I was going to drive away in a truck too. If all mommies and daddies left their kids all alone. And I just felt so… small. And so afraid. And I looked at you with your big trusting eyes and I had no idea what to say because how do you tell your baby that his daddy is a giant asshole with commitment issues?” She laughed through her tears. 

“I know that it’s hard baby. I know that it hurts and if I could take all of your pain so that you didn’t have to feel it anymore I would. But I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna stay right here with you, no matter what. No matter how big and overwhelming the world is, or how small and afraid you feel, you always have me. I am so, genuinely sorry if you’ve ever felt like you didn’t.” 

She hugged him again, smoothing his hair down like she used to when he was a kid. She broke away, smiling, and started to get up. Evan felt a lurch in his stomach. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back onto the bed. 

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I have… there’s… um… I-I h-have to… I…” He took a deep breath. “I h-have to tell you s-something.”

“What is it, Ev?” 

“I -” And then he was crying. Sobbing, really. “I d-didn’t f-fall from th-that tree. I… I… I l-let go.”

“Baby -”

“A-And I h-haven’t b-been taking my m-meds… I’ve b-been… s-stock p-piling them. Th-they’re in th-that drawer.” He grabbed a tissue off of his nightstand and blew his nose. “I’m s-sorry.” 

His mom pulled him in for a hug, tighter than he’d ever remembered her hugging him before. “I love you… so much, Evan.”

 

***

 

_ Dear Alana Beck, _

_ Today is going to be a good day and here’s why…….  _

 

_ Here’s why _

 

_ Here’s _

 

_ This is so fucking stupid.  _

 

Alana stared menacingly at the blinking cursor on her laptop screen. Her hands itched to grab her pill bottle, but she clenched them into white knuckled fists instead. 

“I can’t rely on outside substances everytime I’m struggling,” She said out loud. “I have to find solutions for my problems from my brain, not from a prescription bottle.” 

She sighed, and returned to the keyboard. 

 

_ Dear Alana Beck, _

 

_ Dear Alana Beck, _

 

_ Dear Alana Beck, _

_ Today’s going to be a great day, and here’s why. Because maybe today the Yellowstone super volcano will finally erupt, killing at least half the country instantly and plunging the other half into a crippling ice age with completely unidentified geological effects. When that happens, food will be so scarce, no one will give a shit if you don’t want to eat! Life is fucking pointless, you could die at any minute, and yet you continue to worry only about your ‘fragile mental state.’ Grow up, you literal child.  _

_ Sincerely,  _

_ Me _

 

“Well that’s just mean.” She sighed again, holding her head in her hands. 

“Lana-Pana! Time to go!” 

Alana bit her lip, deciding not to print her letter. She thought it would be better just to say she forgot than to explain this shit show to Doctor Sherman. 

“Coming!” 

Jared was sitting at the same table with Evan when Alana walked in. She knew that he and Jared had made up from whatever issues were in their past, but it was jarring to see someone sit with her friend. She began to walk to an unoccupied table, when Jared called out to her.  

“Beck!” 

Alana turned her head to see him waving her over, with Evan smiling and nodding. Her face broke into a grateful smile as she plopped down on the other side of Evan. 

“So like I was saying,” Jared said. “It’s me, Franklin, and two strippers in a Ferrari -”

“What?” Alana blurted. 

“H-He’s t-talking about G-Grand Theft A-Auto,” Evan said.

Alana wrinkled her nose. “I hate that game.”

“What! Why?” 

“It’s demeaning to women, and Franklin is a super cliche portrayal of a black man.” 

Jared paused. “Okay, like… that’s fair… but also… it’s super fun?” 

Alana laughed and rolled her eyes. Evan laughed as well, lightly punching Jared in the arm. 

Doctor Sherman walked in the room. “Alright everyone, let’s get started. Who’d like to talk about how they’ve been doing these past couple of days?” 

“Alana?” He said after the session was done, stopping her before she could leave. 

“Yeah?”

“I… I noticed you didn’t turn in a letter today? Is there anything going on that you want to talk about?” 

Alana bit her lip and sighed. “No… it’s just… I just…”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s just…?”

“I don’t like them! The letters. They aren’t helping at all.” She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

To her surprise, Doctor Sherman only nodded. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I don’t?”

He laughed. “Of course not. Letters are a mechanism that work for some people and don’t work for others. There are quite a few kids who are trying different things. It’s all about what works for you. So, tell me Alana, what do you think would work for you?”

“I… um…” She fidgeted nervously. “I don’t know.” 

“Well, I know you struggle with disordered eating, and taking prescription drugs, and generalized anxiety, all of these things are usually indicative of feeling a lack of control, of being overwhelmed. When did these issues start?”

“I mean… I’ve always been really anxious, I’ve never had a lot of friends or a good self image but… it got really bad when my grandma died a while ago.” 

He nodded. “Here’s what I want you to do. Whenever you feel overwhelmed, focus on what you can change rather than what you can’t. Lots of times anxiety comes when you feel disorganized, so try writing down all the things you need to do in order of importance and get them done. Also, and this is the big one, you need to talk to people. Whenever you feel upset or distressed or are having a hard time eating or what have you, call your dad. Call me. I saw you’ve been talking to Evan lately. He’s a sweet kid. Call him. You have to reach out. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me you need help.” 

He reached into his desk and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here are some other common coping mechanisms you can try when you feel anxious or overwhelmed.”

Doctor Sherman handed her the paper. She got up to leave. 

“And, Alana?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For talking to me.”

“Oh. Um. Thank you… for the help.”

He smiled. “That’s what I’m here for. You’re a good kid, Alana. I really believe in you.”

Alana knew that it was cheesy, and something he probably said to everyone, but she couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks, Doctor Sherman.” 

 

***

 

Jared awkwardly knocked on the door, shifting his weight. It had been a few weeks since he and Evan had decided to try and be friends again, and they’d hung out plenty of times, but this was the first time Alana would be there too.

Sure, she sat with them at the IOP, and Jared had had a few conversations with her (which usually consisted of her pointing out all of the reasons all the media he liked was harmful and then gently suggesting stuff with better representation), but that was different. That was a structured environment. This was Evan’s house, and to Jared it felt like some free for all wild west frontier where he could be devoured by river otters at any moment. 

Jesus. That was dramatic. 

He needed to calm down. After all, it was only one more person than he was used to. Still, Jared couldn’t remember the last time he’d hung out with more than one person sober. Then again, Evan and Alana probably didn’t have much experience in the group get together department either. He took a deep breath. He’d be fine. He could do this. 

Evan opened the door, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smiled slightly. 

“H-Hey, J-Jared.”

“Hey, Evan.” 

They stood in awkward silence for a second. 

“D-Do… D-Do you w-want to c-come in? A-Alana’s upstairs.”

“Oh, um, yeah.”

Evan shuffled to the side so that Jared could walk in. The silently plodded up the stairs and into Evan’s room, where Alana was sitting on the bed, a bass on her lap and an open violin case near her feet. 

“Hi, Jared,” She said, flashing him a million watt smile. He noticed that there were little white patches on her lips, but felt it best not to mention it. He wondered if it was like his heterochromia, but on someone’s skin. 

“Hey, Alana.”

Evan sat down on his desk chair, grabbing the guitar that was propped up against the wall. Jared felt awkward being the only one without an instrument. 

“You guys should’ve told me it was a jam session!” He said, trying to ease tension. “I would’ve lugged my baby grand along with me!”

“Y-You play the p-piano?” Evan asked. 

Jared laughed uncomfortably. “Doesn’t everyone? I mean… what kid isn’t forced to take piano lessons at age nine? I just… never really stopped I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “Seriously though… it’s like a fucking music store in here. What, were you guys not unpopular enough? You had to start a little marching band?”

Alana frowned. “That was rude,” She said, furrowing her eyebrows. Jared was momentarily struck dumb. People usually didn’t call him out on his rudeness. 

“Yeah I mean I guess I use hurtful humor as a defense mechanism when I feel awkward or uncomfortable.” 

Alana pursed her lips, and then nodded. “Well, if you must know, Evan and I get together every week to play music. I guess you could call us a band,” She laughed. “It’d be a pretty teeny tiny band; but we don’t perform or anything.”

“Oh. That’s cool.”

It was quiet for a second. 

“I-If y-you want we h-have an old k-keyboard that I u-use sometimes, J-Jared. You could, um, y-you could play with us?”

“Why would I want to be in your nerdy little -” He stopped himself and bit his lip, then said quietly: “Yeah. Um… that’d be great. Thanks, Evan.” 

The ghost of a smile flickered across Evan’s lips. He left the room and came back a few seconds later with an electric keyboard in tow. He plugged it into the wall and turned it on. Jared sat down, plucking out a few chords. It wasn’t as nice as his baby grand at home, but it would definitely work. 

“Evan and I could play you one of his songs!” Alana said. 

Evan went red. “J-Jared d-doesn’t want t-to hear a-any of m-my songs -”

“No!” Jared said. “I mean, I do. I’d love to hear your music, Evan.”

Evan bit his lip. “O-Okay… We’ll d-do Waving, I guess.” 

Alana smiled and grabbed her violin, nodding at Evan. Evan started strumming his guitar, and Alana joined in with the violin. 

“ _ I’ve learned to slam on the breaks _

_ Before I even turn the key… _ ” 

Jared was awestruck when they finished. They’d changed key in the last chorus and Alana was harmonizing behind Evan’s vocals and it was… Jared felt like he was going to cry. 

“That was amazing!” He exclaimed. “Holy fucking shit!” Evan blushed, and Alana beamed. “I still think you guys should write a song about the letters, though. Something like…” He sat down at the keyboard and played a quick chord progression. 

“ _ Dear Evan Hansen, we’ve been way too out of touch _

_ Things have been crazy, and it sucks that we don’t talk that much _

_ But I should tell you that I think of you each night _

_ I rub my nipples and start moaning with delight… _ ” 

Evan scowled. “This is wh-why I d-didn’t want t-to show you. I k-knew you wouldn’t t-take it seriously!” 

“I’m not making fun of you, Evan! I’m serious. Your songs are good. Besides, don’t you ever want to poke fun at all the bullshit that people constantly put you through?”

“I m-mean… there is s-something b-but…”

“You should play it!” Alana said. 

Evan sighed, but pulled out his songbook. He flipped to a page and played an upbeat, rock melody. 

“ _ Cause all that it takes is a little _

_ Re-in-ven-tion! _

_ It’s easy to change if you give it _

_ Your at-ten-tion! _

_ All you gotta do  _

_ Is just believe you can be who you want to be _

_ Sincerely, Me _ ” 

Jared laughed. “See! That’s the most hallmark, ‘it gets better’ bullshit ever! I love it!” He thought for a second. “You know, you guys say you aren’t a band… but you definitely should be.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't updated in forever but this fic is still active i promise
> 
> pls comment because there are over 7,500 episodes of the price is right
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns))
> 
> i know that this is just a random chapter of a dear evan hansen fanfiction and doesn't really have any bearing on reality but here's a link to donate to hurricane irma relief: https://www.globalgiving.org/projects/hurricane-irma-relief-fund/
> 
> my great aunt and uncle live in florida and are at risk from the hurricane and can't evacuate because of my aunt's severe dementia and mobility issues. My heart goes out to anyone affected by/with loved ones affected by irma. <3


	9. The Precipice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which evan is nervous, jared is doing better, and sincerely me gets its name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic attacks, self hatred

Evan was pretty sure he was going to throw up. He had no idea how the hell Jared and Alana had talked him into this. Everything had happened so quickly. They were at Evan’s house rehearsing, and then Jared was talking about how they should be a band and Alana was all like “Really?” and Jared was like “Totally!” And then Alana was booking them for an open mic night because she couldn’t just take a compliment she had to change the dynamic of everything. 

“I… I d-don’t think I c-can do this,” Evan said. 

Jared looked at him. Evan stared ahead at the curtain separating them from the audience. He felt bile rise in his throat. 

“Nope. N-No way. I definitely  _ c-cannot _ do this.” 

“Evan,” Alana said, walking over and resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Just breathe. You’ll be fine.” 

“N-No, A-Alana I w-won’t be fine because I’m g-gonna g-get out there and everyone w-will… will…”

“Will what?” Jared said. “Laugh at you? That’s not going to happen. This is Naperville, not New York.”

“I j-just c-can’t, J-Jared. I c-can’t do p-public speaking, I c-can’t do s-school presentations, j-just last week you w-were making fun of me about th-that English p-presentation on D-Daisy Bucahnan last y-year -”

“That was just a joke -”

“Well it wasn’t funny!” Evan was quiet for a second. “I-It w-was true. I… y-you’ll have f-find someone e-else. I’d just mess it up. I-I ust mess e-everything up.”

Alana looked at him with that soft, sad look she got when she saw a lost puppy. 

“Evan,” She started.

But Evan was already gone. He ran out from the backstage, pushing past a stage manager and a security guard, and out into the street. He collapsed into a ball, leaning against the cool brick wall outside. It was cold for August, but Evan was sweating. He was always sweating. He disgusted himself. 

Alana would be so disappointed in him. She would probably stop talking to him.

Jared would hate him again. 

And why shouldn’t they? He was worthless. He had no idea how he tricked them into tolerating him in the first place. 

He couldn’t believe that he’d actually thought that he could have friends. That he could write songs preaching about mental illness like he was some glorious being who’d conquered all his demons. He was just as fucked up as everyone else. More fucked up, probably. He was so broken. 

He was crying again. He was always crying. He was such a baby. His dad used to say that he cried too much, “even for a girl.” He was probably right. Evan couldn’t be a girl right, he couldn’t be a boy right, he couldn’t kill himself right, he couldn’t do anything. He was defective, and ruinous, and ugly, and unloveable, and a burden and 

“Evan?” Alana said, crouching down next to him. “Evan, are you alright?”

Jared sat down on his other side. “Your mom gave me some Xanax for you just in case. Do you need it?” 

Evan shook his head. 

“I’m… I’m s-s-s-sorry,” He blubbered. 

Alana scrunched her eyebrows. “Why are you sorry?”

“I r-ruined everything and y-you b-both probably h-hate me now and I d-don’t bl-blame you I m-mean I’m an e-easy p-person to h-hate -”

“Whoa, Evan, who said we hated you?” Jared asked.

“We don’t hate you,” Alana said. “We wanted to apologize for rushing you into anything. You don’t have to go onstage if you don’t want to.”   
“I… I d-don’t?” 

“No! I mean… it would be really great if you did since I sort of told Lexi that we would be performing and she drove all the way out here but… your mental health is more important.”You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, Evan.”

Evan nodded shakily. Jared pressed some damp paper towels into his hand and Evan dabbed at his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, then he took more deep breaths, then he sat for a few minutes, thinking. 

“Okay,” He said. 

“Okay?” Jared asked. 

“Okay. L-Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Alana asked.

“Onstage.”

“Onstage? Like, onstage to perform!?” Jared asked. 

“Y-Yes, d-dumbass.”

Alana whooped. 

 

***

 

The three of them made their way backstage. A stage manager walked up to them, angrily waving a clipboard about. 

“What’s your name?” She asked. 

“Um, Alana Beck?” Alana replied. 

The stage manager rolled her eyes. “No, like, your band name.”

“Oh. Uh, um, we don’t… we don’t really have one?” 

The stange manager huffed. “Well what’s your first song called?”

“Sincerely, Me?”

“Great. That’s your name.”

“Wait, what? That’s not our name! What kind of name is that!” Alana started to follow the stage manager, protesting the moniker. 

Jared grabbed her elbow, stopping her. “‘Lan, let it go. We can just change it later.” 

“Please welcome to the stage,  _ Sincerely, Me _ !” 

Jared gave her a small smile. “We’re on.”

 

***

 

Jared stared out into the crowd, at all the people cheering and whooping for him. He felt strange. He liked the attention, and all the people cheering for him. But it didn’t fill him up like he thought it was. It wasn’t exhillerating. He looked over from his keyboard to Evan, who was center stage, breathing heavy. Jared could see the vein sticking out of Evan’s neck. Evan turned towards him and flashed him a huge, terrified, but happy smile.

He saw Alana do a giddy little dance with her violin on the other side of the stage. She noticed he was looking at her and laughed, her teeth gleaming in the lights. She ran over to him, pulling him in for a big, sweaty hug. 

“Ahhhh!” She said. “That was so amazing! Did you see? They love us!” She did her happy dance again. “Let’s go bow!” She grabbed Jared’s hand and pulled him over to Evan. The three of them bowed and waved at the crowd, taking in all of the praise and excitement. They were a hit, but that didn’t really matter to Jared. 

Or to any of them. 

He looked over at his two best friends, both sweaty and beaming and breathing hard, and he knew they were all a little bit in love with each other. Pure, unselfish love. They were family. 

Later, Evan went backstage to cool off and call his mom. Alana was talking excitedly with Lexi. He could tell there was definitely a bit of flirting going on, so he decided to leave them alone. 

He walked over and sat down in one of the booths, taking it all in. A boy with brown eyes and curly blonde hair slid in across from him. The boy looked to be twenty two, twenty three maybe. 

“You,” He said, smiling at Jared, “Were absolutely fantastic. Like, damn. The other kid’s voice was good but,” He leaned in. “I liked yours better.” The boy winked. 

Jared laughed. “Thanks!” He said, staring at the boy. He was attractive. Like, really attractive. He was _ hot _ . And he was talking to - and flirting with - Jared. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked. 

Jared’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t had anything to drink in a month. He was doing better. He was really doing better. Was he going to fuck it all up for some guy?

“ _ Yes, _ ” A part of Jared said. “ _ This guy is hot as fuck, and clearly into you. _ ”

“But he’s like, way too old for me,” Another part of Jared responded. “And I’ve been doing so good.”

“ _ Oh my god. That’s never bothered you before. _ ”

“Well. I think it bothers me now.” 

“Um,” He said. “I’m… I’m only fifteen, so,” 

“Oh!” The guy said. “Oh shit, oh my god, I am so sorry. You must think I’m like… such a fucking creep.” He hung his head in his hands. “It’s… it’s so dark in here and you guys seemed older on stage… I’m sorry.” He got up and out of the booth. “You have a really nice voice,” He said. “Good luck, kid.” 

And then he was gone. 

Jared tried not to feel bad. Or alone. Or rejected. He had turned the guy down. And it was good that the other guy left. Still, as much as he wished he could be the picture of sobriety, he itched for something. For the warm feeling of being of part of something, for the feeling of having a glass in his hand. He didn’t want it, but he felt like he needed it. And hell, maybe he did want it a little. 

But then Alana slid into the booth and said something about Heidi picking them up, and how him, Evan, Lexi, and her were all going to have a sleepover at his house, and Jared didn’t wish that he was twenty one and able to go out with Brown Eyes Blond Hair. He was perfectly happy to be fifteen with his best friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have you guys listened to Rachel Bay Jones cover of "Left Behind" from spring awakening? It is literally life changing. 
> 
> Also like,,,,, i'm back lol. sorry about the hiatus >.<
> 
> pls comment because I saw DEH last thursday and i am s h o o k
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns for my personal blog and @ask-godly-deh for my dear evan hansen askblog!!))


	10. Mama Who Bore Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which everyone is sad and this fic isn't dead lol dw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Depression, Talking about death a lot, self hatred

Sometimes Evan felt as though he’d been ambushed by a melon baller. He would lay on his floor, feeling utterly hollowed out inside, unable to do anything but stare at the ceiling while NPR played from the radio/speaker his mom had gotten him for Christmas last year. 

When he was in this state, time was funny. It either slowed down, each second feeling like an excruciating eternity, or it sped up, days and weeks washing over him with barely any notice. Oftentimes, he would forget. He was so lost in his own abyss of a mind, that he didn’t notice when the usually chatty Alana Beck went radio silent. 

Evan heard the signature creaking of his door opening. Before his anxiety could go batshit telling him he was about to be murdered, the screeching voice of Jared Kleinman shook the foundations of his house. 

“EVAN!?”

Evan didn’t respond, staring while his ceiling fan spun lazily.

“EVAAAAAAN!”

He heard Jared stomping around upstairs. 

“EH-VUH-AH-EN!”

“U-Upstairs.” Evan mumbled. 

His door swung open. 

“There you are! You look like ass. What’s wrong?” 

Evan shrugged. 

“Dunno.”

Jared sat down next to him. “Okaaay. Is there anything I can do?”

Evan shrugged again. 

Jared sighed. “Is Alana okay?”

“I-I dunno? I th-think s-so. Wh-why?”

“Well she hasn’t been responding to any of my texts, or texting  _ me _ anything, which is odd because she’s usually always blowing up my phone. So I was just like… wondering if she said anything to you? Like if she’s mad at me or something?” 

“I d-don’t… th-think she s-said a-anything? Wh-Why would she be m-mad at y-you?” 

“Oh. Um. I dunno. I just… do you think we should go check on her?” 

“Ch-Check on her?” 

“Yeah? Or not. Nevermind. It’s stupid. I’m being stupid I’m sorry -”

“N-No. We c-can go and ch-check on her if you w-want.” 

Jared nodded. “Okay.” 

 

***

 

Alana heard the doorbell ring. And then she heard it again. And again and again and again in rapid succession and she didn’t want to get up to pick it up because her legs were not working and she didn’t want to see anyone not today dear god not today but her dad was still in his room and the doorbell wouldn’t. Stop. Ringing. 

So she got up. And she opened the door. 

“What… what are you two… doing here?” 

Jared grinned. It looked forced. “We came to check up on you!” 

Evan nodded. 

“Oh. Um. Okay. Why?”

“Well… we haven’t heard from you in like two days so we thought -”

“Well. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

She started to close the door. 

“Yes I’m fine.”

“Alana you don’t look that good -”

“I’m -”

“A-Alana,” Evan gently put his hand on the door, holding it open. “W-We’ll l-leave i-if you r-really w-want us to… b-but you don’t l-look g-good. And y-you’re our f-friend, so if y-you aren’t okay… y-you need to t-tell us.”

Alana stared at the floor. “It’s… my mom. She, um, it’s… it’s the anniversary of her… when she. Uh. Died.” She expected tears to pour down her face, to break down in front of her friends, but nothing happened. She just continued to stare, dry and empty. And somehow, that was worse. 

“Oh,” Jared said.

“Oh,” Evan said.

“Yeah.”

“We can leave if you… if you want us to -”

“No. You can stay. Please stay.” She pulled at a loose thread of her sweater. “My dad… he just stays up in his room all day. It’s… lonely. I guess. I used to just sit with my grandma all day but… yeah.”

“O-Okay. Of c-course w-we’ll s-stay.” 

Alana nodded numbly. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jared and Evan actually entering her house, pushing the door closed behind them. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jared asked. 

Alana shook her head.

“A-Are… a-are you okay w-with touch?” Evan asked.

Alana nodded. 

She felt two sets of arms wrap around her, two warm bodies pressing in to her. She felt herself relax into the embrace of her boys, silent, hot, heavy tears falling down her cheeks. 

 

***

 

Jared pulled three steaming mugs out of the microwave, stirring in the chocolate mix and mini marshmallows. He carried them in to the living room, setting them down on the coffee table, then retaking his place on the couch to Alana’s left, climbing under the thick quilt the three of them shared. 

“Thanks,” Alana mumbled. 

“Don’t mention it,” Jared said, tracing patterns in the fabric of the quilt. 

Alana took a deep breath.

“My mom died in childbirth.”

“A-Alana, y-you d-don’t h-have to -”

“I know I don’t have to talk about it but… I want to. I never talk about it. I feel like I can’t talk about it. Just… promise that you guys won’t be weird? And you won’t pity me or treat me like I’m glass?”

“We promise,” Jared said. 

“My mom died in childbirth. Postpartum bleeding. She kept saying she was… was cold. After I was delivered. And she didn’t stop… bleeding. She was dead within six hours.” Alana took a deep breath. “And it’s weird, yanno? Because like… I didn’t even know her! She just gave brith to me and then she fucking… just fucking… died. Just left me all alone like, good bye six hour old baby have fun navigating the world without a fucking mother!” She let out a strangled laugh. “I know she didn’t do it on purpose. But it still sucks. Everything just… everything just fucking sucks.”

She sighed. 

“Sometimes I blame myself. Or I feel like… like I don’t deserve her sacrifice. From everything I’ve heard my mom was… was great. She was happy and sparkling and she died giving birth to me and what… what do I do with the life she gave me? Spend it fucking… wanting to kill myself. She’d be so ashamed of me.”

“She w-wouldn’t b-be ashamed of y-you!” Evan said. “Y-You’re… you’re wonderful Lana.” 

Alana chuckled bitterly. 

“She would be!” Jared protested. “You’re great, Alana. You’re smart and talented and -”

“And kind. S-So fucking k-kind. You’re f-forgiving a-and p-patient and y-you p-push p-people to b-be b-better. Y-Your mother w-would be s-so p-proud of you. W-We’re s-so p-proud of you.” 

Alana’s eyes were glassy. 

“Wait,” Jared said. “If your mom died in childbirth… that means today is your birthday!” 

He instantly regretted saying it. Of course she fucking knows it’s her birthday. She probably doesn’t celebrate it because it’s too painful or because -

“Yeah. I… I guess it is. I’m fourteen today.” She chuckled. Her voice was wet with tears. 

“Well…” Jared slung his arm over her shoulder and kissed her forehead gently. “Happy birthday, Alana.”

“H-Happy b-birthday, A-Alana,” Evan said, and wrapped his arms around her waist, cuddling up to her.

“Thanks guys,” She whispered. “I love you nerds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooooooo mer crimbo if that's your sorta thing. 
> 
> pls comment because i finally updated lol
> 
> ((also follow me on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns for my main and @ask-godly-deh for my dear evan hansen greek mythology au askblog))


	11. Found Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it all ends, but at the same time, it all begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Swearing, mentions of alcoholism and eating disorders

Evan woke it his phone buzzing incessantly. One text notification didn’t even have time to finish before another one started. This was… weird. Evan was not the type to wake up to one text message, let alone hundreds. He wiped at his eyes, then rolled over and grabbed his phone. 

His barely used instagram account had about a hundred new requests to follow him. He had three missed calls from Alana, one from Jared, and a bunch of texts in the group chat he, Jared, and Alana were all apart of.

A text came through. 

 

**Alana: Everyone meet at my house, ASAP.**

 

Evan rolled out of bed, pulling together a haphazard outfit and grabbing his coat while scrolling through backlogs. He didn’t understand what was happening. 

“Hey baby,” His mom said, a smile on her face. “Did you see the news?” 

“Y-Yeah…” He mumbled as she pulled him into a hug. 

She beamed. “I’m so proud of you! We should get everyone together to celebrate!” 

Evan shook his head. This was… way too much to process. “Um, we’re actually… m-meeting a-at A-Alana’s, to l-like… t-talk? And stuff? S-So… later.”

A concerned look settled on her face. “Are you okay, hun?” 

Evan nodded. “No, y-yeah, I… I’m t-totally c-cool.” 

His mom frowned. “Alright. Well. Keep me updated. And when you get rich and famous, don’t forget your old mom!” 

He laughed uncomfortably, and then practically ran out the door. When Evan arrived at Alana’s house, the atmosphere was that of nervous excitement. 

“This is insane!” Jared was saying. “This is  _ fucking _ insane!” 

“A-Alana,” Evan said. “What is  _ h-happening _ ?” 

Alana looked at him, a wide smile on her face. “Well… remember the night we played at open mic?” 

He nodded. 

“I… um… I had Lexi record our set, just for like, prosperity, ya know? But it was… it was really good. And so I cleaned up the audio and the recording and stuff a little bit, and I put it on YouTube. I didn’t think like anything would actually happen because of it, but somehow people found it and started sharing it around and… well…” She laughed, and gestured emphatically. “ _ Sincerely Me _ is trending!” 

Jared stood up, bouncing around excitedly. “Some fucking celebrity tweeted out a link to Alana’s video! I got an email from some suicide prevention project wondering if we wanted to do like promotional stuff for them!” 

“I… I d-don’t understand? Why? Wh-why do p-people… care?”

“Evan,” Alana said seriously. She grabbed his hands. “Your songs are good. You speak to people. You… you help put feelings in words. Your music… it can help people. It’s wonderful. Why wouldn’t they care?” 

“Are y-you… are you g-guys p-proposing that we a-actually do something w-with this? Like… we b-become a b-band or whatever?”

“We not?” Jared said. 

“B-Because! W-We’re…”

“Amazing and incredibly talented? I agree, Evan.” 

“N-No! I c-could barely get u-up for open m-mic! I c-can’t… I c-can’t be like… famous. I’m j-just… me.” 

“Evan, you spoke to people. You did that. You brought the three of us together. And even if it was hard… you did open mic!” Jared was grinning like a maniac. 

“If you don’t want to, Evan,” Alana said. “You don’t have to. This is like, a big decision. And nothing could come of it. If we don’t do anything, people will forget in a like a week. But… I dunno. We have an opportunity to actually like, do something. If you want to?” 

She raised her eyebrows and looked up at him.

Evan didn’t feel real. He didn’t feel like any of this was real. He wasn’t special, he was just Evan Hansen. The kid who tried to kill himself that summer. The kid who no one noticed. But somehow, people had noticed him. They’d found him. They’d  _ heard  _ him. 

He cracked a smile, and nodded, feeling like a crazy person. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, why not?” 

Alana whooped and pulled him into a hug. 

“Hell yes!” Jared said. “Sincerely, Me, baby!” 

“G-God… is it t-too late to ch-change the name?”

 

***

 

Alana stared at the table set out in front of her. They were celebrating the release of their first album, “The Most Amazing Trees.” The record company was treating them all to a huge meal at a fancy New York restaurant. Her dad sat on one side of her. Evan sat on the other. Alana held up the menu, calories and possibilities and plans and deadlines and interviews and thinkpieces filling her head. 

It was crazy how things could just come up again. She would be fine for a while and then her brain would send out the attack battalions against her well being. Every pound felt like a death sentence. She would do an interview, or a photoshoot, and feel fine, and then she’d be trying to take a photo for her instagram and it would end up with her on the floor of her bedroom sobbing her eyes out. 

She felt Evan’s hand on her arm. 

“Hey, L-Lana. Y-You good?” He asked. 

She took a deep breath. “I will be,” She said. “I think…” Her eyes fixed on a random menu item. She laughed. “I think I’m gonna get the caesar salad. And mashed potatoes. Cause I’m a bad girl who clashes food groups and doesn’t even care about it.” She said. 

Evan smiled. “Okay,” He said. 

He fidgeted in his suit. 

“Hey, Ev?” Alana asked. 

“Hmm?”

“Do you think… I was wondering… I kind of want to do a song about my mom? For our next album or whatever? Would that be okay? Obviously I’d need your help writing it and stuff but I just… I think she would like it? God, this is so stupid I don’t -”

“Alana,” He said. “I th-think that’s a g-great idea.” 

She smiled. “Thanks, Evan.”

“Hey!” Jared said from between his parents. “Are you two chucklefucks listening? I’m trying to tell a frankly amazing story.” 

Alana smiled and turned to Jared, nonchalantly putting her menu down. “Sorry, Jared, what were you saying?”

 

***

 

Jared liked being famous less than he thought he would. Not to say he didn’t like it, because he loved it, but it wasn’t the big, life altering, fix all that he expected it to be. He had people fawning over him, hell, he had to have  _ security _ , and somehow, he didn’t really care about that? 

It wasn’t the performing or the after parties or the interviews or the thousands of twitter followers that meant the most to Jared. It was the quiet moments. It was playing video games with Evan. It was teasing Alana about her nerd books and then going to read the exact same books and argue with her about the best pairings. It was making stupid needlepoint gifts for his friends and then threatening to kill them in their sleep if they ever told anyone. 

Jared got an email from Mitchi a few months after the band hit it big. She wanted to get together, maybe go out to a party to celebrate him being a “rockstar” now. 

Jared was curled up on Evan’s couch when he read the email. He was dressed in pajamas. Evan was in the kitchen making popcorn, and Alana was fiddling with the DVD player. They’d just finished a four hour practice sesh. Jared knew he wasn’t going to go out, he had been making serious headway in his “recovery” and wasn’t about to fuck it up, but the weird thing was that he also didn’t want to. He had no desire to go get fucked up with Mitchi. To make out with a stranger. To lord his so called fame over people he didn’t know. He was perfectly content to bicker with Alana about what Harry Potter movie was the best while Evan complained quietly because they were being distracting. 

Jared found that he would rather have two people like him for who he was than have a hundred like him for who he pretended to be. 

 

***   
  


Evan didn’t see many sunsets anymore. He was on tour, and his shows ran well into the night. Usually the three of them liked to sleep in until the early afternoon on tour days, partially because they were exhausted and partially just because they could. 

But today Alana burst into Jared and Evan’s room at five thirteen a.m., banging pots and pans and telling them to get their butts out of bed. 

“Hawaii mornings are supposed to be breathtaking,” She said. “Get your lazy asses up!”

Jared let out a string of profanity, but the two of them wrapped themselves up in blankets and trudged down the halls of the hotel. 

Alana lead them to a door marked employees only. She pulled a key out of her pocket. “It’s good to be famous, sometimes,” She said with a smile. They walked up a staircase, through a trap door, and onto the hotel’s roof. And as he was wrapped up in a borrowed blanket, with his head on Jared’s shoulder, and Alana resting comfortably with her head in his lap, Evan Hansen thought there was something to be said for sunrises as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic took wayyyyyy longer to write than it should've, but it's over now! thanks for reading and all that. ily <3
> 
> drop a comment and check me out on tumblr @aliensinflowercrowns and all that good stuff


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